Genuine
by SelahSardonica
Summary: The Empire has fallen. Only those that slither in the dark remain, and things seem set to conclude as Claude had planned for. Once he receives a letter from his homeland however, the course of fate is changed.
1. Open Doors

Claude's room was quiet. Too quiet.

That wouldn't have been an issue if there were a political meeting coming up, or a battle he needed to plan for. Then holing one's self up for an entire day would make sense. This sort of quiet though, was different. Especially for someone so boisterous and everywhere like Claude usually was.

Byleth knew quiet like the back of her hand, and this sort of quiet only had one other name. Her heels clicked on the marble as she approached his door and knocked.

A weak "come in" reached her ears, which was a promising sign. She turned the knob and went in.

Claude was sat at his desk, hunched over something, a gloveless hand clawed up in his hair with deep concentration. At the sounds of her shoes on his carpet he turned. His eyes softened like they usually did at seeing her.

"Oh, hey Teach, what can I do ya for?"

Byleth ignored the impulse to narrow her eyes at him. Something was definitely off. His voice lacked it's usual conviction and lightness. The tired circles under his eyes were nothing new, but it was their hollowness, the shortness of his smile that really tipped her off.

"I came to check on you." She walked closer and leaned against his desk with a fold of her arms. "You missed dinner."

He seemed to take note of her assertive posture and looming presence, and unconsciously leaned away from it. His hand scratched at his neck as he lied, "Looks like I worried you. Sorry about that. I got caught up in some plans and lost track of time. You'll see the pay off soon though, I promise."

"Claude." Byleth stressed, leaning forward. "You missed _dinner_. They made pheasant." She met his eyes with her signature stare. It was a look of intense focus she'd only use when she'd move to strike down targets. "Stop lying to me. What's troubling you?"

A solid few seconds passed as Claude studied her with widened eyes. In fairness she'd never been this direct with him, but he'd also never been this avoidant with her. At rare times like this, when they pushed each other farthest from themselves, she wished she could tell what he was thinking.

Either way, her tactics worked and he caved.

Shoulders slacked, he let out a sigh and looked away. "Of course I can't get anything past you." He said it more to himself than her, Byleth realized. "It's not like I put up a good fight either."

She smirked, once again the victor. "Your performance was lackluster at best."

"Yeesh, that bad huh?"

"I think even Raphael would be worried."

"Alright now you're just being mean!"

Byleth actually laughed at that, and saw that Claude had offered a genuine smile too. But then it was gone. It seemed she had to try a gentler approach before anything would stick.

She reached out and put her hand over his. "You know you can trust me." It wasn't a question, it was a fact, and they both knew it. There was too much evidence to back it up.

Byleth felt his hand curl closed, and again he looked away. She thought maybe she really wouldn't get anything out of him at first, but then his other hand was on top of hers.

"Yeah, I do." He conceded, and took a breath. "My mother's fallen ill."

Byleth immediately understood. Claude was too level headed to get worked up over nothing. His mother was dying. "Will you go to her?" she asked.

Pain washed over him. "We're at such a crucial stage in the war and political affairs within Fodlan right now. I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. His eyes drifted down to the paper, what was now clearly a letter, that he'd been staring at when Byleth had come in. "I was asked to return home."

Byleth's face and posture softened at his open confliction. From her third party perspective, there was no choice. Family always came first. Yet, Claude was truly so principled and driven, he didn't want to risk leaving where he thought he was needed most. Where the world, where their shared dream, seemed to need him most.

She smiled and knelt down to look him in the eyes. "My friend." Those words captured him. It was something she'd never said outright. "Your dream is my dream. Your goals are my own." She stroked his hand with her thumb. "Go to your mother. I'll take full command and tie up the loose ends while you're gone."

Byleth watched as surface feelings, deeper emotions, reasonings, and thoughts rushed through his mind at the proposition. Had he really not considered it an option?

Claude creased his brows and opened to protest "But what if - I can't ask - "

"You can and you will." She cut him off. "You already know the choice you need to make. I'm simply cutting off any other foolish ideas from that whirlwind of a mind you have." She said with another smirk.

Byleth was stunned when Claude's eyes slowly watered, and he shook his head to compose himself. He squeezed her hand before letting it go with a ghost of a laugh. "You really are somethin else, Teach."

"I know." Byleth winked for good measure, before moving to stand and leave. "I'll let you get packed. It'll be a long journey." She strode to the door, before Claude stopped her.

"Hey."

There was a strange weight in the way he said it. It made something odd twist in her belly. Byleth turned and saw the most complex bundle of emotions he'd ever openly shown with her. Worse yet, she couldn't even decipher it. For the first time in a while there was something on her old student's face that was a complete mystery to her. What on earth?

"Teach, listen, uhm."

Word whiskers? What other odd behaviors would he throw at her today?

After some obvious internal grappling, he seemed to become much more himself. His eyes seemed alight again, but somehow, much more grieved.

"Claude," She laughed, more in nervousness than anything else. "I'm sure it can wait until-"

"No listen to me, please. It's important, since we're already being so honest right now. You shared your allegiance with my goals. I have to tell you the rest of my plan now. It's, only fair."

She took a few steps forward to show she was listening. She couldn't stop herself from folding her arms again though.

Claude cleared his throat knowing full well what he was going to do to her, to them, with what he was about to say next.

"If, if I go home now, I need you to understand that I don't know if I'll be coming back here. To Fodlan. Ever."


	2. Departure

Claude had said he needed a couple weeks to get affairs in order for such a permanent step down from power. That couple of weeks was also about how long it'd been since they'd last spoken, and everyone felt it.

The once inseparable duo had eaten dinners, held meetings, studied, and trained in different places, at different times, and with different people. Those that were either too removed from the situation or too intimidated to say anything much about it. At best they could only exchange curious looks and whisper amongst themselves.

Byleth justified it all as giving them both the space they needed to focus on and prioritize their now separate agendas. She didn't want shared sentiments to get in the way of what needed to be done. Or so she said. Repeatedly. To a very specific group of people that couldn't stop asking her questions.

"Come on professor!" It was Hilda who had decided to corner her this time, in the library no less. She'd have never been caught dead there in any other situation. "Claude's leaving tomorrow! Don't you want to make his last night here count?"

They'd only just started this conversation and her patience had worn thin. Byleth shoved a book back into its place on the shelf. "I am. I'm taking over his duties to make his departure go as smoothly as possible."

"By acting like you don't care?"

Byleth faced Hilda with a pointed glare. "By showing my support." She then turned and began to gather up her textbooks on the table behind them. "Claude agrees with my methods."

A hand slammed down over the two books she'd reached for. "Is that what you think?" Byleth made a mental note that Hilda had a strong voice when she was serious.

Hilda seemed to come back to herself though and lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Ya know, as annoyingly great as your relationship is, you both have a hard time being genuine where it counts." Point made, she marched out of the room in more of a huff than Byleth could ever have mustered.

She spent the rest of the day sulk—er, working, in her quarters. By some miracle she even remained undisturbed until she realized the sun had set and it was close to dinner time. She rolled onto her side in bed and gave extensive thought to where and with whom she would maneuver herself to sit near in the dining hall. She didn't get the chance to use such plan. There was a familiar knock, almost pounding, at her door.

"Professor! Open up!"

Byleth complied despite herself and found Raphael beaming with excitement at her threshold. "Is there pork on the menu today?" She tried with curiosity.

The man couldn't contain himself. "And so much more! The cooks went crazy and made a feast!" Before she realized what that meant or her thoughts on it, he'd whisked her over to the dining hall where the entire Alliance and their allies that resided at Garreg Mach had already gathered.

The heat of the room engulfed her first, along with the succulent aroma of food. Perhaps every dish she'd ever had before was there, prepared to perfection and set out in an elaborate spread. Torches and chandeliers lit up the tables and guests in warm golden undertones. Combined with the unified roar of conversation, Byleth couldn't help but bask in the wave of nostalgia that overtook her. She wanted to cry.

Raphael, well meaning and unaware of her intense feelings as he was, guided her to one of the center tables where the rest of the original golden deer house was assembled. Claude's voice stole her attention as soon as she was within earshot. Of course he was at the head of their table, gesturing and talking animatedly about the time his father had tied him to a horse as punishment for one of his terrible schemes. The others were equally captivated by his story telling, clapping, grinning and laughing at just how absurd and foreign his childhood was in comparison to their own.

With the next wave of laughter Byleth took her seat beside him. It wasn't as painful as one might have thought at first. It was so deep rooted a habit that they both forgot the significance of the action while so caught up in the moment. Until Claude turned to the new comer at his right and realized it was her. Their eyes locked, and something within them both clicked in place.

_I've missed you._

"Hey Teach! You made it just in time." He broke the spell with his usual wink and winning smile. "I was just getting to the good part."

Without missing a beat Byleth rolled her eyes at him. "You mean where you got dragged for 'nearly ten miles' and lived? Your father must've been proud to know you learned your lesson."

Pleased that she was following along, his boyish grin grew wider. "Alright sure you've heard the summary. But did I tell you what my mother did to him when she found out?"

Then just like that, just for an evening, all was right again. More stories and tall tales passed between they and their other friends like that for an hour or two. During which time, as things began to settle down, the confession arose that such an elaborate get together had a two fold purpose. One that both Byleth and Claude respectively had already figured out by then.

"It was already Hilda's idea to hold a farewell feast for Claude the night before his departure." Leonie explained. The girls shared a look from their places across the table.

"We just hated to see you two at such odds for so long." Marianne said, her voice barley audible over the white noise.

Ignatz, who was beside her nodded in agreement. "And what better way to break the ice but with a feast? In fact-"

"The evening festivities aren't quite over yet." Lorenz supplied.

This caught the pair's attention, and Byleth had to give Claude a nervous look. They were at the mercy of scheming friends. Anything could be about to happen. So perhaps it was both with surprise and also not, that they heard music begin to play from a distance. Music that was customary to dance to. Byleth closed her eyes with a knowing smile. The parallels were obvious in hindsight.

Claude for his part, seemed absolutely ecstatic at this turn of events. "I gotta say, I'm impressed with you all. You really pulled out all the stops on this one. I'm touched." he then looked to Byleth for her response. Everyone did.

The pressure to say something profound had all complex thought flee from her mind in an instant. Again she fidgeted with the golden deer bracelet on her wrist, as if it were a charm to bless her with something to say.

Claude laughed, seeing her struggle, and put a hand to her shoulder to indicate his understanding. "I think what Teach wants to say is thanks, and that she couldn't have asked for better students, and friends."  
She'd been looking down at his speech, but at the end she found the strength to meet the eyes of her chosen house, eyes glassy with unshed tears.  
"I'll remember this always." she said, and managed to meet Claude's eyes as well. "The last night we were all together."

Raphael gave a loud sniffle at the display, and Marianne passed him her handkerchief, which made everyone burst into laughter again.

Claude then stood with a loud clap of his hands, which got everyone from the other tables attention as well. "Alright everyone! We've had our fill of wonderful food courtesy of the cooks at this fine establishment," he shot a wink at the old head cook herself, who waved and blushed in gratitude. "So let's really make this a night to remember. Let's go dance!"

There was a resounding cheer and people immediately started heading to the dance hall. Byleth moved to follow the crowd on her own when Claude tapped her and offered his arm.

"Shall we go?" to his apparent delight she offered him a full smile and accepted.

"I thought you hated dances?" she remarked as they walked.

"The formal stuffy kind, yeah." He said. "But this is about celebrating friends, beginnings and endings, and that's pretty important. That's life itself. Don't you think?"

_Typical Claude_, she thought to herself. Her cheeks had started to hurt from all the smiling she'd done tonight. Everyone had gone far ahead of them she noticed and Claude seemed to be walking them quite slow. She hadn't noticed Claude's hand had covered her own until it gripped hers.

"Teach, I feel like I need to apologize..."

Byleth stopped him with a gesture. "Claude please. We're long past it." Her eyes drifted to the stars in thought. "It'll be hard with you not being here, sure. Different. Lonely." She admitted. "You had five years to get used to those feelings before I came back." She stopped and turned to him. "It'll be the first time for me." Her friend seemed struck by such an admittence. She was sure this was the first time he'd considered such a perspective.

"But that doesn't matter anymore." Byleth continued. "I said it before. We share the same dream. Even if we're apart for goddess knows how long," she said as her eyes drifted to the side. "I know we'll still be working in step with each other. Until that dream is realized."

He was in awe of her it seemed, because he went speechless at first. He held her hand tighter. "Thank you my friend. For everything."

She smiled at him for the thousandth time that night, and pulled their linked arms along faster. "You can show your gratitude by saving me the first dance!"

He laughed with her, a certain light in his eyes. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."


	3. An East Wind

For all of Byleth's pretty words that night, the fact she was going to watch her best friend leave Garreg Mach for the last time did awful things to her stomach the following morning.

In perfect irony, a glance out the window promised cold and overcast skies. She rolled out of bed with a groan and blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the semblance of daylight that came through the glass. As she looked to the grounds below, she saw that the golden deer members had already gathered outside to see Claude and his escort party off. Despite some hangovers she knew some of them had to be working through.

She first spotted Claude's white wyvern, and then his golden cape as Hilda tackled the man into one of her bear hugs. The idea she was either fighting tears or just openly weeping in Claude's arms and the quiet discomfort that must have caused him made Byleth smile. Then the realization she should hurry to say her own farewells (with less waterworks of course) reminded her of her nausea. _Guess I'll be skipping breakfast again. _

Such thoughts were caught away by an abrupt motion in her peripheral. Claude had somehow spotted her still stood at the window and had begun to wave up at her. She smiled wide immediately, and a renewed fervor, if not a pull, took over. Byleth opened her window and waved back, face then fully split into a grin.

He cupped his hands and shouted something familiar. "You overslept, Teach!"

She laughed at his absurdity and answered in kind, "I'm coming down!"

Sleepiness and dread forgotten she dressed in a flurry and all but raced out into the chill of dawn. While she made her way to the gate of the monastery, she caught sight of what looked to be a messenger who seemed to be wandering around what was once the marketplace. She walked past him before she was noticed. There was time to face such things later.

The deer parted for her as she took the last strides up to Claude several minutes later. His eyes sparkled with mirth at her disheveled state. "I'm starting to think you really hate goodbyes."

Byleth's laugh came out breathy, and as she opened her mouth to say something sassy, to her surprise he pulled her into a full embrace. His breath ghosted over her ear, and everything around her was suddenly full of him. Part of her wondered if the others watching were uncomfortable with such an intense public display, but then she found that she didn't care. Her hands latched onto him until everything went blurry.

"I think I do." She said in a whisper, as if it were some kind of confession to a long-held secret.

There was a pause before Claude finally pulled away and rested his hands on her forearms. "I'll write." He promised. "I don't know how often, but I will. You're a part of this now. You're the reason any of it is even possible." His eyes grew more intense. "You know that don't you?"

Something lodged in her throat. She could only nod. _Change their world, Claude. Change it as you did mine. _

Then someone cleared their throat with a hint of awkwardness. She turned and saw that it was Cyril, fully geared and visibly antsy. Byleth had personally assigned him as head of the escort party to guide Claude as far as Fodlan's locket. _Of course he'd take it so seriously_, she thought despite herself.

"Sorry to say it, but we should head out now if we're gonna hit our first check-point by nightfall."

Byleth felt Claude's grip loosen as he looked from her to Cyril and gave a somber nod.

Reality poured back in and the other golden deer members took that as an okay to come closer. Claude let her go to straighten up and say his last words as their leader. Byleth watched his whole demeanor change as he spoke. He'd been soft and vulnerable with her, but in the blink of an eye he seemed to age a decade. The weight of his own ambitions and their great costs were back on his shoulders in a way that darkened his eyes. It was a sort of weathered and worn part of him that had no doubt been shaped from his private struggles in her absence, if not long before. He hadn't spoken of them in great detail, but he didn't need to. Where he was going he would only continue to be shaped by that kind of fire.

"I apologize for the interruption-" Another, unfamiliar voice broke into the moment as Claude had finished. All eyes turned, and Byleth recognized the messenger from before. His clothes were ragged and torn, his eyes and skin reddened from his journey. "It was expressed to me this message was of utmost importance." The man went on. "I was told to tell you it is a matter of life and death." Then he presented a letter. A letter adorned with Edelgard's imperial seal.

Byleth felt the mood shift in an instant. The messenger had been addressing Claude, as news of his departure had been kept as discreet as possible given their fragile political state. She closed her eyes and stole a breath, and took the letter in his behalf without a word, ignoring the messenger's confused look. Again she nodded, and dismissed the man without explanation.

Claude of course had seen the seal. "Looks like duty calls." His voice was empty. When she turned back to see his expression it looked shadowed and stricken. Their situation had just become very real. His brows were knit together, his jaw set and his face hot. "Blast it all."

She'd had enough. This was about to get out of hand. The time for sentiment was over. "Claude, you need to go. Now." Her voice was hard, her posture firm. "I can handle this. _Trust_ that. Please."

The former Alliance leader shared a last, strange look with his self appointed successor. His mask was on, and it broke her heart to see it had somehow hardened since she'd seen it last.

"Alright."

And then, as if some greater being had simply turned a page in a book, Claude Von Riegan was gone.

Byleth didn't go back inside to take on the madness that awaited her immediately, despite the questioning stares she got from the others over it. She needed this last moment alone. This last calm with herself before the storm. She stood there and watched until the cluster of people and their cavalry merged with the horizon. Again she told herself it was for both their sakes. To make sure he didn't come running back, and by doing so, making sure she didn't in turn go running after him.


	4. The Storm

"So then Rhea _is_ alive, and the fight's not ever yet."

The disbelief in Hilda's voice rang true for everyone else gathered in the monastery courtyard. With Hubert's opened letter still in hand, Byleth herself struggled to grasp this unexpected turn of events. They'd just had crucial information dropped into their laps by the apparent good graces of a fallen enemy. It would've seemed too good to be true in any other circumstance.

"It appears so." Byleth answered in monotone. A contemplative silence fell over the group.

"Someone should fetch Seteth." Lorenz said with a step forward. "We must make haste in orchestrating a search party for the archbishop."

An odd expression came over Hilda's face. "Would she, still even have any titles at this point?"

A question Byleth hadn't thought of, but based on the nobles' faces, it was an idea they had long since entertained. She'd been acting as the figure head in Rhea's place all this time by necessity, but with the woman now resurfacing, should she be reinstated to power at some point?

Ignatz seemed hopeful. "Some would no doubt be greatly motivated by Lady Rhea's reinstatement. It could signal a rekindled hope, or be seen as a sign of the goddess' blessing on our cause."

Leonie folded her arms at the suggestion. "But given the Empire's warped propaganda against the church, I could see just as many either being too distrustful or too afraid to accept her again. The world has changed."

"And the people of Fodlan already seem to have taken to Byleth being the new face of hope. An abrupt shift in power could plant the seeds of disunity among lords and troops alike at a time we can't afford." Lysithea added.

"None of that matters at this early stage." Byleth said after some thought, folding the letter closed. "There are too many unknowns that prevent a concrete decision. For now we should focus on the search as Lorenz suggested, and getting answers from her about this great threat against Fodlan."

The air was still thick with speculation, but they complied and all agreed to discuss further plans the following evening.

Upon returning to her room, the dust and quiet that met her felt even more empty than when she'd left it. Byleth had commanded troops and armies just fine before, but with this new prospect, and facing it without Claude - she all but collapsed onto her unmade bed.

He had always been suspect of the church's well kept secrets, and by extension Rhea herself. She could imagine his reaction if he'd been the one to read the letter. Full of questions and an urgency to answer them himself, and also to verify how true the letter even was. Of the church's many enemies, those that slithered in the dark seemed to hold the last big pieces to many aspects of their shared journey.

Byleth for her part wasn't as distrustful of Rhea as perhaps she should've been, but there were concerns in regards to her own origins and identity. Rhea had done much for Byleth, but the woman's great fondness for the Eisner family had always seemed - misplaced. She looked to her mythical sword at the notion, void of a crest stone as it still was. Nothing was ever simple.

Her mind and heart thrashed about with such thoughts for some time like that. Soon her sleep deprivation from the night before came back full force, and before long she was fast asleep.

* * *

_There was a loud unified battle cry. Armored warriors in odd garb charged down a desert plain. Wyvern mounts shrieked from the skies above. Steel clashed against steel. Wings, limbs, and full bodies clashed, bled, and fell to their respective foes. A young man swung down his blade. A flash of white and gold came into view and another rider drew back their bow - the arrow never flew. An ear piercing scream followed. Then darkness._

_"Have you no mind if your own? Must I do everything for you..?" _

Byleth shot up in bed, knife raised. Her breath came in erratic and desperate heaves. She felt uncomfortably warm and coated with a light sheen of sweat. She then took in the sight of her bedroom, not a battlefield. _Another nightmare._ She lowered her small weapon with a final sigh and sheathed it back under her pillow.

This made the third night in a row. Though the nightmares had begun some time after their search party had finally brought Rhea back to the monestary. To everyone's great worry the woman had returned to them in a comatose-like state, and had remained so for _weeks_. Byleth had to wonder if there was now some sort of correlation between the two events.

Dreams of battle were nothing unusual for her, but she knew what they were usually like. Places and faces she'd seen before. These nightmares were odd because they played out things that were entirely foreign to her. As if they were spliced bits of memory that belonged to someone else. With a frown Byleth realized this sort of thing had only happened during one other period of her life. She clawed through her hair with exasperation. _I never asked for any of this. _

As if on cue there was a knock at her door.

"Yes?" She called out.

"Pardon the late hour Commander, but Master Seteth said to fetch you." One of the servants spoke through the wood. "Lady Rhea is awake."

Byleth made haste to dress and cross the grounds to reach what had once been the archbishop's official quarters, where two guards had been posted. Upon being let in she found Seteth crouched in front of a now conscious Rhea, who had a cup of warm tea cradled in her hands and a blanket draped over her shoulders. Their eyes drifted upwards, and Rhea offered a weak smile.

"How are you feeling?" Byleth asked in turn.

What little light had been in Rhea's eyes seemed to fade, and she shook her head.

There was a pause of thought as Byleth wondered how to lead on into the real questions she needed to ask. The matters they needed to discuss if Fodlan was to endure. She opened her mouth to try.

"Byleth," Seteth cut in, his voice heavy and face downcast in the shadows of candlelight. "Lady Rhea can no longer speak."

The weight of his statement froze her in place. Perhaps her incredulous stare reached, as Seteth explained further. "It was shown to me on paper that some," the man took a bracing breath to steel himself. "Some unspeakable horrors were conducted as retribution for her supposed sins. One of which was the loss of her tongue."

Rhea placed a hand over her mouth as a quiet sob escaped her and tears soon after. Byleth's face twisted at the sight. _What, what can be done now? _

"There's more." Seteth sighed. "Lady Rhea wishes for you to leave for Fodlans locket."

A pit dropped in her stomach. "The border stronghold? Why?"

Seteth looked back to Rhea and took her hand. "She wrote that during her capture, she discovered a great evil will soon be coming to Fodlan, from the east. From the land of Almyra."


	5. To Be Heard

As if on reflex Byleth ran a thumb over the dagger at her hip. Many things rushed to her mind when the land of Almyra was mentioned. Most of those things actually dated farther back than her time as a professor.

The most recent of course, was Claude. He had only told her he was an _outsider_ to Fodlan, but it didn't take a master mind to piece things together on her own beyond that. They had both since been alright with that unspoken understanding. Though it seemed things had just become too complicated to maintain that little arrangement. She thought back to her dreams of war and bloodshed and something terrible gripped her.

"I, I can't." She sputtered, not used to refusing a justified request. "This information could in itself be a trap given the length of time I would have to be gone. The risk is-"

Seteth stopped her with a motion. "Lady Rhea and I already discussed this at length." He said. "Those that retrieved her can verify that there were Almyran warriors working alongside Empire soldiers at the underground keep where she was held. They were allies, and therefore have become privy to the fragile state of Fodlan as a whole."

Byleth furrowed her brows. "That doesn't make any sense. The only Almyrans to pass through Fodlan's throat were Nader and his troops when we took Fort Merceus. Nevermind them working with the Empire. What could they possibly have had to gain from that level of risk in the first place?"

Seteth's face darkened. "Power of course. Land. Conquest for the sake of conquest. What they're always after. Edelgard could have promised them such things and more." Then with a shake of his head he continued. "Of course we have many lingering enemies, but I'm sure you'd agree this takes immediate precedence. We can't risk another war with a foe as great as Almyra. Therefore you are free to choose any of your previous students to stand in your stead while you investigate this further, and I, as Rhea's representative will support them."

_Were they even listening? _ This entire arrangement felt incredibly forced. Rhea was no longer in power and had no real right to call the shots, however well meaning she was. Byleth couldn't help but fall back on her instincts and past experience in a scenario like this. The feeling she'd had before, when Claude left, returned full force. _Something is very wrong here. _

Byleth visibly straightened and her face firmed. She looked to a still troubled Rhea and took a breath. "Respectfully, I remind you both that five years have passed. The church as it once was no longer exists, and Claude has entrusted me with the safety of our friends and the future of Fodlan itself. A task I do not take lightly. I am therefore the ultimate authority on what is said and done." Seteth moved to object but she pinned him with a stare. "Your concerns are valid, but I will decide how forward or cautious we should be. Let me hold counsel with my own allies, and we will proceed from there. Not behind closed doors in the middle of the night." By the end her face was hot and her words quick.

Through all of this, somewhere along the line their faces had become wide-eyed and slack jawed. Whatever their reasons for it. Before they had any room to act, Byleth took her leave outside and down the hall without another word.

Midway though as her temper cooled a little, the shock of her actions caught up with her. _What was that about? _Why was she really upset? Where had that feeling of wrongness really come from? Since when had she ever felt the need to have such an outburst?

"You're looking worse for wear, little Professor." A woman spoke from somewhere ahead of her.

Byleth pulled away from her inner scrambling to find Judith of all people striding up to her from the opposite side of the hallway. _Can I never have a private moment to myself?_ It must have shown on her face because Judith gave her a hearty chuckle in response.

"If looks could kill. It's no wonder Claude finds you so charming." She said with a smirk.

Byleth felt her eye twitch. _Charming? _

"You share similar behaviors under stress my dear." Judith explained. "I mean no disrespect, but you look like you could use a moment of repose, and perhaps haven't the mind to try."

Having such a thing acknowledged by someone felt oddly soothing despite herself. She heaved a sigh and felt her shoulders slacken with the motion. "I suppose."

"Care for some tea in the dining hall? I have just the blend." Judith's smile was strangely soft. Byleth had only ever seen her as a strong and emboldened force of nature. Yet in contrast this side of her seemed so much more leveled. She couldn't help but imagine an old wyvern queen. The thought lifted her spirits a little.

"That would be nice."

Silence in an empty room before dawn had a way of making everything feel important, Byleth mused as she left Judith to make their tea. She'd ended up sitting in her usual place out of habit. A center table one over from the wall, and to the right of its head chair. Her eyes wandered the place when she felt comfy. She studied the shadows as they moved with the flames from the dim lamplight, and listened to distant sounds of night creatures and cricket song from outside.

After a few minutes the smell of Judith's tea of choice reached her nose. Pine. _Claude's favorite. _She was immediately taken back to the afternoon he'd introduced it to her. Freshly baked goods were set out at a small table in the garden under the midday sun. Full of excitement he'd offered her a steeped cup and watched her take her first sip with utmost concentration. It had been a rich, earthy flavor that was like nothing she'd ever had before. She remembered looking up to see his face light up when she'd said it was good. Amidst their usual somewhat one-sided banter, it had made for one of her favorite memories after arriving to Garreg Mach. A hollow ache rolled through her chest and down to her stomach. _Of course that's what she picked. _

Judith chose then to come back with their tray and pour for them both. Byleth took her cup with a small thanks and savored the warmth that seeped through the ceramic to her fingertips.

"So tell me," Judith began as she raised her own cup to blow on it. "What has you so troubled?"

Byleth's gaze fell to the table. "I'm just now seeing the kind of pressure Claude must have been under while leading us all this time. I thought I'd known from just watching him and doing my part, but," She took another breath. "It's very different from the battlefield."

Judith nodded. "That it is. Being a ruler comes with its own kinds of battles. People look to you. Always an opinion to be heard, choices to be made, each with their own consequences. Consequences that will inevitably affect those around you, for better or worse."

Byleth gripped her cup in frustration. "With such considerations in mind, where does my own voice fit in? How do I know I'm making the right calls when others insist their way is better?" Though she was asking Judith, the question still sounded rhetorical to her ears. Like perhaps she didn't expect a real answer. Or at least one that would satisfy her.

It seemed Judith also understood that. Somehow. She smiled again. Byleth could hear it in her voice when she spoke. "How ironic a question, as you were the one to teach the answer to Claude not long ago."

She met the older woman's eyes with surprise. "You remember how disingenuous a boy he used to be. Acting and speaking with a voice and persona not his own in order to get what he wanted. He did so thinking there was no other way to be heard, let alone understood. Therefore many thought him untrustworthy."

Byleth tilted her head. "I do remember, but how does that relate to being a good leader?"

Judith laughed. "You must not doubt yourself, child. Trust in what it is you wish to achieve. Have it clear in sight, but be flexible and realistic in your methods. Be genuine about them. Then before you know it," She said with a motion to Byleth's house bracelet, "Those in your life that truly matter will come believe as well, and follow your lead."

Byleth took a small sip of her tea. _Be genuine? Haven't I always been? _She thought to incidents when Claude had hounded her for supposed secrets he was convinced she'd kept from him only to find none. Or when she'd been obvious in her quest for revenge on Monica after her father's death. She'd never hidden her true motives from anyone. _Maybe that's the point. I wasn't just genuine with others. I was that way with myself first. That's why Claude could trust me. _Then she thought backwards to what Judith had said. _If I did teach him that, it was a wonderful accident. _

"So tell me now little professor," Judith said with a certain finality to her voice. "What is it you truly want to do from here to achieve your goals?"

From the corner of her eye Byleth noticed the beginnings of dawn start to light the sky. She set down her cup and smiled.

* * *

"You're going to Derdriu?"

She'd assembled the deer in their old classroom some time after breakfast. Seteth and Flayn were also present, looking uncomfortable. It was almost humorous.

"Yes Leonie." Byleth said, then met the eyes of each of her students. A warmth bloomed in her chest as she took each of them in. They were so grown, so capable. _Be genuine. _She reminded herself. "Perhaps you've heard, but Lady Rhea regained consciousness earlier this morning." An excited hush fell over the group. "She expressed concern that some Almyrans may have been in league with the late Empire. I've decided the risk is too great to simply travel directly to Fodlan's throat to investigate."

Hilda stepped forward. "Are you sure Professor? I could send a letter ahead to my brother and gather information that way to save you a trip? This whole thing seems pretty absurd given he just became buddies with Nader."

Byleth smiled at the concern that clouded her face. "That had crossed my mind as well, but I fear such correspondence would take too long in case there's more going on behind the scenes. Nevermind that if the stronghold has been compromised, that letter could be intercepted and put your brother in unnecessary danger."

Lorenz nodded his understanding at this. "So you're going to Derdriu instead to verify if they've received any hearsay from the other lords, so as not to arouse outside suspension."

"Exactly. I shall deal with whatever I find there."

Lysithea stepped forward. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but what about Claude? Wasn't he headed east as well? Do you think he's alright?"

Byleth couldn't stop the sting of panic that curled around her insides. She'd been trying not to dwell on that question too much. "The escort party was set to board at the old capital as a pit stop to update Nardel on recent events after parting ways with Claude. Along with awaiting word here, I can meet up with Cyril myself if anything has happened." She could only pray she wouldn't have to.

A pause followed as everyone took in this information. "So then, who's to lead in your stead Professor?" Ignatz inquired.

"And what about those that slither in the dark? The ones Hubert warned us about?" Marianne added.

Seteth had remained quiet until this point, but with Byleth's nod of approval, he stepped forward to explain. "I will act as a sort of retainer in the Professor's stead until her return. We will infiltrate Shambhala in the coming months with proper preparation. But we must balance our remaining troops and resources carefully."

Byleth nodded her agreement. "I know there have been some drastic changes lately. I don't want any of you to feel thrown from one hand to another or be confused about your importance or roles within these plans. Does anyone have personal concerns they wish to voice?"

The deer all shared a knowing look between themselves. To Byleth's surprise they faced her with full smiles. "We believe in you Professor!" Raphael said with a determined shake of his fist.

"Things are always crazy around here." Lysithea said with a shrug. "We won against the Empire under your leadership. I know we can take on whatever comes next."

Leonie raised her own fist. "For the future of Fodlan!"

"For the future of Fodlan!" the others echoed in unison. Byleth found her eyes watering at the sight. _Judith, you were right. _


	6. Follow the Torrent

"Alright what is it you're trying to teach my child now?" The low rumble of Jeralt's voice came from the doorway of their temporary hideout. A place that had once been an old tool shed on the outskirts of the local village that had hired them.

Byleth looked from the backlit silhouette of her father to the other man who was sat on a stool in front of her. His features were dark, his manner gentle and warm, with eyes that were an unusual green color. He held a whetstone in one hand and a knife in the other.

"Survival, friend." The man said, his voice smooth yet laced thick with an accent. He raised the weapon for her father to see and Jeralt chuckled at the sight.

"Ah yes. Today's the day isn't it Byleth?" She listened to the weight of his boots against the creak of the floorboards. She turned back to him with a curious stare. "Your first weapon. How time flies." He knelt down to eye level with her. "Listen to Araxa," He then planted a hand on the man's shoulder. "He knows his steel, and how to make it last."

Araxa gave a nod and a smile. Byleth often found herself staring at him when he did. The man caught her as always and simply beckoned her close. She wiggled from her seat and complied, and was handed her freshly sharpened knife. Its blade had looked minuscule in his large and calloused hand, but in contrast to her own it seemed monstrous. There were subtle yet beautifully engraved designs on its handle. She was transfixed by it, and kept turning it over in her dominant hand, feeling how light it was even for her. She gave a few mock stabs at the air with it. Both men watched her with an expression she couldn't name.

"Blade is companion." Araxa told her. "Give name honor."

Byleth looked from him to her father, who gave his nod of approval. "What do you want to call the knife, kid?"

Her eyes went back to the weapon. She ran her fingers over the hilt. Araxa had spent much of his free time making it for her. She'd watched him. So it only made sense in her young mind what she picked. She studied her mentor's green eyes again.

Then in a tiny monotone voice she said, "Araxa."

* * *

Byleth approached her destination in the Port city of Derdriu. The air there was quite humid compared to farther inland, and the cries of seagulls overhead were almost a constant. The smell of salt and seaweed had carried from a recent eastern breeze as well. Not the greatest combination in the world, she mused, but it did bring a certain peace with it somehow.

Upon catching sight of the palace gates she made an audible sound of relief. Her joinys ached, her back was horribly stiff and a bath sounded divine in that moment. Perhaps her mount had a similar idea when its head flicked against her grip on the reigns. Gatekeepers and soldiers began to run along the walls above, shouting orders and spreading word of her arrival. The iron gates were eventually rolled up for her, and she trotted into an inner courtyard.

Against pretty much everyone's better judgment, Byleth had come alone. Her argument had been that a full blown travel party would have taken away too many resources and drawn too much attention on the road, but really Byleth just wanted some time to herself. It had been ages since she'd gone anywhere on her own. The journey had reminded her so much of her mercenary days and solo scouting trips she'd taken when her father was either injured or too unwell to do them with her. Though she'd been less of a person in those days, the idea of such simplicity became more appealing by the day.

She then caught sight of Nader and some servants waiting for her. She slid off her saddle and let them take the horse away with her thanks as Claude's old friend strode up with literal open arms.

"Byleth! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" He all but shouted with a toothy grin that reminded her so much of Raphael. "When I got word you were coming I had to be sure I was here to welcome you myself!"

She gave her own much more subdued smile in turn. "It's good to see you too, Nadar. I just wish it was under better circumstances."

There was a noticeable change in the man's demeanor at her last statement. The wind seemed to knock out of his sails in an instant. "Yes. We have a lot of news to cover don't we?" There was a strange pause before he cleared his throat. "Please get settled in, then we can talk about the details over dinner tonight."

It felt a little lengthy of a wait, but given the fact being on horseback for the last week or so made her feel like her legs were about to fall off, she couldn't bring herself to argue. She nodded and they parted ways.

The chambers Byleth was given were much more spacious than the room she had back home. Coming from such simple beginnings to start with made it feel almost uncomfortable. _What would someone do with all this space? _She couldn't help but wonder. There was a king sized bed against the left wall, and a fireplace with two chairs and a love seat facing it on the right. Her eyes then caught the tall closed windows that were partly covered by beautifully embroidered curtains. They led to a large balcony which overlooked some kind of garden. _Noble life sure is lavish. _She thought dumbly as she set her travel bag down. Some time was spent just running her fingers over things. Feeling the different fabrics, taking in the view. Eventually she plopped onto the sinfully large bed, sank into the blankets and started to doze off.

Then sounds of conversation and clicking heels caught her ear from the adjacent hallway. Curious, Byleth strained her ears to overhear.

"Does the boy seem any better today?" an older woman's voice inquired. "His wounds were absolutely horrid when he arrived not long ago."

"I heard he was awake for a while this morning, but the other ladies in the infirmary still aren't sure if he'll make a full recovery." her companion answered. Then their voices became too far away to catch much else.

Byleth stared at the ceiling in thought. _Was there a battle_ _recently? _Her mind was drawn back to Rhea's claims, and even worse, Claude's own welfare. _I swear to Sothis you better be alive. _The more she thought about it the more restless Byleth became. Until a very Claude-like impulse struck her. She'd been so close to sleep, too.

_The boy they mentioned would be in the infirmary. That's not far. _She didn't know how much Nader would be willing to tell her over one meal after all. He wasn't untrustworthy, but it wasn't beyond reason that he could omit certain information if he saw fit. How better to ensure she got what she came for than finding it herself? _Nader did say I should settle in properly before dinner. This is me, settling in. Perfectly justifiable. _

Byleth was thankful Claude had braught her there once before and made a point of showing her around after their negotiations had finished up those many moons prior. Her memory served true as she didn't have to wander long before she came upon the infirmary. There were healers if all classes and skill levels coming and going from the entrance. They each carried various things in their hands and in different states of clean and work worn. They were all so preoccupied they didn't even seem to care she was there. _So much for the thrill of sneaking around and getting caught_. She'd been around Hilda too much.

Byleth squared her shoulders and did her best to act natural as she strolled through the double doors. There was an immediate assault to her senses inside. It reeked of potent medicinal herb salves, tinctures, elixirs, and all manner of human fluids cramped into one large room with little to no ventilation. There were rows upon rows of wounded men that were either burdened with troubled sleep or an intense pain they couldn't help but vocalize in some form. Healers and their helpers were rushing from bedside to bedside in attempts to tend to as many as possible.

Finally she was noticed by a superior white mage. The one in charge based on her clothing and demeanor. "Are you here to assist?" The old woman croaked in a tone sharp with stress.

"Uh, yes!" Byleth found herself blurting out. _I am? _

The woman nodded. "Good. There's finally someone on top of things today." She grumbled to herself. "Start with our most critical patient over there in the corner. Check his bedding and clean the bandages. If you're a white magic user check for infection and purify any remaining open wounds. Do the same for his neighbors afterward." Her orders came in rapid succession, but given Byleth's background her mind was quick enough to follow it all and set a sort of mental checklist for herself. _Thank goodness I have enough faith proficiency to do any actual healing. _Should it have concerned her that she took orders from strangers so easily? Probably.

There wasn't time to think over such trivialities though. The patient she was assigned had a curtain separating him from the others. Byleth reviewed her list of tasks and braced herself for whatever she would find. She slid back the curtain and immediately recognized him.

"_Cyril_?"

The boy was an absolute mess. His visible skin looked pale and discolored. He had a black eye, split bottom lip, and what was left had otherwise been covered in bandages that were stained with old blood.

"Oh Cyril." Byleth knelt down to put a hand over his belly until it began to glow. With what limited medical knowledge she possessed from conducting first aide on the battlefield, she was able to feel that none of his wounds were infected. Though many had still not closed. She ran her fingers over the bigger red patches and found them to be damp. A sharp pang struck her chest. _I'm so sorry, Cyril. _

Byleth stood with a horrible weight on her shoulders and a sickening pit that continued to sink and twist in her own stomach. The implications - nevermind the mountain of questions they lead to - regarding his being there for _this long_ meant one thing. A sudden fury coiled and burned within her and she marched for Nader's quarters.

She all but kicked the door down. Nader was at his desk and visibly jumped in his chair at the intrusion. He rose with a face slack in alarm. "Byleth! What on-!"

"What happened here, Nader?" Her voice was an unnerving kind of calm. "Why is Cyril in the infirmary with dozens of other half dead men? _My_ men?"

The man's face washed over with a certain kind of seriousness only a soldier would recognize. His eyes glazed over and any life in his limbs left him until he finally looked down to the floor. "Please my girl. Take a seat."

"Do not coddle me like a child." Byleth spoke with a step forward. "Answer!"

"Then _sit down_ Commander, and listen!" His voice boomed against the walls. It was enough to still her. Amidst a thickened silence Byleth turned, closed the door, and took a seat.

Nader also sat back down and heaved a great sigh. He rubbed at his temples before folding his hands together to speak. "Claude's escort party was ambushed not far from here." He explained. "Cyril was discovered by some merchants and brought to the palace. I sent out a search party in hopes to find the others. Those that survived are where you found them."

Byleth didn't know what face she was making by the time Nader finished, but given the way he refused to look at her, she imagined it was as haunted as she felt. "Then, Claude…?"

He seemed to cringe at the way her voice broke. "We've been searching ever since." He said with a gaze fixated on his own hands. "Only the body of his wyvern has been found so far."

Her thoughts went quiet. That changed things. Byleth closed her eyes with a hand to her brow. A shaky breath escaped her. "Then he's alive." She stood and headed for the door.

Nader was floored by the abrupt response. "But-"

She turned around and met his eyes, her own alive with new determination. "No body, no death. If Claude was killed he would have been found with his mount." Byleth looked to the side with a thoughtful frown. "He loved that thing."

Nader was on his feet after that. "I have another search party set to depart within the hour. I assume you'll want to accompany them?"

Byleth rested a hand on her sword. The sword of the creator which pulsed under her touch. "No." She replied. "I'll be commanding them. We're going to battle."

_Byleth cut down another battalion with one wide arching slash of her mythical blade. It glowed with an angry light and destroyed all in its path. She clung to its hilt with both hands. Sweat and blood had started to fall into her eyes. A soldier in foreign armor charged towards her. She roared another battle cry and rose to strike him. _

_Then something punctured deep into her side. All went still. The sword of the creator dropped from her hands. A knife was yanked out and took splatters of red with it. She started to turn but her legs gave out and Byleth found herself the ground instead. The eyes of her killer loomed above, a haunting shade of green. _

_Then they spoke with a voice not their own. "Aren't you paying attention you fool? This is serious!" _


	7. A Battle

It had taken much longer than expected to get the men, supplies, and plan of action in order, given their drastic change from defense to offense. Her eyes fixed on their destination, Byleth wondered if that time had cost them.

Fodlan's locket was under siege.

Fire and smoke lapped at a sky smeared with red and speckles of gold. A familiar eastern wind carried the smell of its ashes to Byleth's senses. The uproar from both sides could be heard even from the distant hillside where her battalion was stood. The place seemed to be in real danger of falling for the first time since its founding, and by the very foes it had been made to withstand.

A spike of anxiety made Byleth squeeze at her horse's reigns. She'd forgotten to breathe again. _Claude, what is going on? They're undoing everything we worked for. _Her thoughts then drifted to Hilda, and her brother Holst who was no doubt among those soldiers. What would she even tell her if he fell tonight?

Nader's mount trotted up to hers. With a look downhill, he hissed something between his teeth that she didn't catch. "Seems your sixth sense was right on the money, Commander. Does our plan stay the same?"

She forced herself to look away from the ongoing battle, the urge to vomit still at the back of her throat. It only seemed to worsen the longer she sat there.

"Yes." Byleth spoke finally. "We'll split into two groups and send aid from either side til we can meet in the middle. We'll keep our eyes open for Holst and any other familiars they may have taken captive."

Nader's face darkened at that. "Ah, just a thing there. Almyrans, don't take war prisoners less they're real important."

Byleth processed his meaning, then gave the man a hardened stare. "Then pray Claude is important enough for them to kill last." She heard him choke at that as she turned to give their men the order. _Please. Hang on just a little longer. _

Divine pulse was used not moments after they'd charged inside the fortress when Nader was shot through the throat by an arrow. Byleth reached out and felt time itself course up and through her. She made a pull motion with her arm, and watched for the archer who'd struck him as all rewound itself by several seconds around her. An Almyran warrior had perched themselves on the second floor, moments from firing. Byleth strained through gritted teeth and released her grasp. Time resumed like the snap of a bow string.

"Move!" She shrieked and thrust her blade out to block the oncoming hail of steel.

_Ch-k-k-k-k! Ka-boom! _

An explosion split out at the contact and all within range were thrown in wildly different directions. Byleth found herself rolling to the ground, ears ringing and vision distorted. _Explosives? H-how-? _She attempted to move her limbs despite the way her head had begun to throb and was struck with a different, cutting pain as air touched her wounds. Some of the skin on her arms had been split and scorched when she'd reached out to shield Nader. Byleth bit her cheek and all but climbed to her feet just as another soldier had risen their blade to try and finish her off.

An arrow pierced their leg and they buckled. Byleth made quick work of them and as she turned away met eyes with one of the men from her battalion. She gave them a nod as a healer, one of Holst's men, cast psychic over her. She'd lost sight of Nader, but given he wasn't one of the corpses at her feet she had to hope he'd pressed on ahead.

Byleth made her way through the sea of bloodshed. The deeper in she got, the harder it became to breathe. Smoke was starting to drive everyone out as the fire continued to spread. More than half of the place had already been swallowed by the flames. There were still no signs of Holst himself, or Claude. She covered her face with a sleeve as she nearly coughed out a lung, her eyes and throat all but burned dry from the ash. _Where is it? Where is it? _

Then she heard a distinct kind of chanting coming from somewhere ahead. A booming, wall shaking kind of unified scream from the mouths of what sounded like a hundred thousand men.

"_Shahanshah!_" It shrieked in her ears. "_Shahanshah! Shahanshah!" _

Byleth began to turn toward the sound eyes wide, and saw what appeared to be the Almyran leader himself charging towards her, his eyes glowing with infused dark power. _A diversion_. She only had time to shield her back with her sword as the man's own weapon swung down on her. Sparks came off the metal as they clashed. Byleth's body screamed at her under the friction and she struggled to resist with a growl, one hand bracing, and her other igniting with fire magic.

Her opponent's face flashed with realization and he gave a hard shove to hook a foot behind her shin to throw her off balance. But Byleth let herself turn with the force and slapped her open palm against his torso as she was spun around. He was blasted several feet away. His side thoroughly charred.

Byleth heaved to catch her breath, palms to her knees. She approached the Almyran, ready to finish him off. Then something stopped her.

Byleth couldn't move. Something deep within her core was grasped, squeezed, and began to feel pulled on. The man opened his eyes with a sinister smirk, and raised his right hand with a reaching motion. His irises began to glow, amplifying their natural color until they became a bright, haunting shade of green.

The hand she'd used to cast her fire spell flew to her chest as the deafening sound of a frantic heartbeat rang in her ears. The pulling became painful. Everything around them seemed held in place too. The sounds of battle had been completely muted. All Byleth could hear was herself. A sudden, true fear crashed over her. _I-I can't breathe. _The man closed his hand into a fist. _I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't-!_ She shut her eyes and buckled to the ground. An intense wave of vertigo overtook her. A shrill outcry flew from her lips and then-

"_Shahanshah! Shahanshah! Shahanshah!" _

Byleth opened her eyes, suddenly finding herself upright, sword in hand. "What on-?"

White hot agony erupted through her. Eyes wide, she looked down, and saw half of a blade protruding from her stomach. Her hand trembled, her breath hitched, strangled sounds bubbling from her mouth.

Her opponent's breath ghosted over her ear as he leaned in close and with no trace of an accent whispered, "Tell her, The End has come."

"BYLETH!"

Her sword dropped from her grasp, and it's angry, fiery light, went out.


	8. Consequence

Byleth wandered back into their shed hideout after she'd tired of practicing with her new knife. Her father had gone back to the village to buy supplies for his job that night. The sound of a metallic _tink tink_ reached her ears, and she saw her mentor hunched over a makeshift work desk as he hammered away at some kind of sword.

Ever so quiet, she walked over to him, and tugged on his sleeve.

He turned from his work and gave her one of his usual warm smiles. "Ah hello, _azizam_." It was a term in his mother tongue he liked to call her. She didn't know what it meant, but it gave her a strange warm feeling that she was equally confused by when he did. To the point she would go out of her way to get him to say it, like she'd just done.

"Araxa." She said, wondering if saying his name to him would do anything similar. Of course, he just looked back at her with a question on his face, his smile never wavering.

"Are you hungry? Your papa will bring something soon."

Byleth shook her head. "I'm okay." She continued to stare.

Araxa gave a small chuckle, unphased by her lack of expression. "Are you bored? Would you like to hear a story?"

This caught her interest. Her eyes brightened ever so slightly and she gave a curt yet enthusiastic nod. She loved his stories. They were so different from the ones she would hear other villagers tell their children.

Araxa's smile widened so that it reached his eyes and deepened the crows feet at their edges. He set his tools aside and turned in his seat to pat at his lap. "Come, come then. Sit. I will tell a story."

With noticeable eagerness she climbed into his lap. He went on to tell her of a far away land. A place that was very hot, and very dry but had beautiful blue skies. He described the people who lived there. They liked to sing, and dance, and always told the truth. Araxa then spoke of a little boy called Cyrus who lived there with his papa. He was very clever.

"Just like you, _azizam_!" He said.

"Did he get a knife too?" Byleth found herself asking. Which was her way of asking if he'd grown up.

Araxa's smile dimmed ever so slightly. Byleth's brows furrowed at this, wondering what it was about her question that had been so bad to ask.

"No, the little boy Cyrus did not get a knife. He ran away from his papa."

This was even more odd to her. She couldn't picture ever running from her own papa. He was safe. "Why did he run away?"

Araxa made another face Byleth didn't understand. "One day little Cyrus was hurt by mean people from another land who did not like him. He was scared. He did not know how to be strong."

Byleth decided she didn't like this story, or this weak boy. "He should have had a strong papa to teach him." She said with the utmost seriousness. "Like my papa. Or you, Araxa."

This seemed to make the man happy as he smiled down at her and gave another little chuckle, before he lifted her off his lap and back to her feet. "Yes, _azizam_. Be happy you know how to be strong." Then he tapped on the blue sheath he'd given her to carry her knife in. "So then you can teach it to someone else, who does not."

* * *

_Warm. It's…warm._

There were sounds of a crackling fire. The smell of smoke, and cooked meat. Movement. Then there was the sound of rustling clothes.

_Heavy. Tired. **Pain**._

Byleth woke with a start, only to immediately regret it. A horrid muscle clench sent a shock of agony through her entire body. She clutched at her stomach underneath a blanket that covered her and suppressed a groan. She felt bandages there. She felt significantly lighter too, and realized her armor had been removed. That left her in only a linen tunic and her tights. _That's right. I was…injured_. She forced herself to breathe slow and quiet. _Am I a hostage?_

Instinct kicked in and Byleth searched her surroundings with as little movement as possible. It was dark out save for the fire where something was being cooked. Crickets and other night creatures created white noise in the distance. Then she heard the sound of metallic footsteps crunching through the tall grass to her right.

Panic gripped her. The tensing of her core from nerves making the pain worse. Byleth struggled to breathe and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper. _Find a weapon, find a weapon!_ She roved the campsite and saw her sword tossed aside a few feet away along with her outer armor. She tried to scoot closer with an arm outstretched but growled in pain. Byleth heard her captor getting closer. _Okay, okay. Last resort. This is going to hurt, a lot._ She sent crackles of lighting through her body and into her hand, and timed it just right as an armored soldier came into the clearing. _Yes!_

Their whail of shock knocked them off their feet and Byleth started to try and crawl away. Her core screamed in protest and she shut her eyes as her body forced her to curl in on herself. She felt like she was on fire. _No, not yet, please!_

Then Byleth was suddenly being held up by her shoulders. She tried to shout and struggle but there just wasn't enough left in her.

"Teach! Hey! Stop! It's me! It's _me_! "

Byleth froze and opened her eyes. She was met with brilliant green looking back at her, full of worry. She went slack in his grasp.

"...Claude?"

It took several seconds for her mind to catch up. She studied his dirtied face. There were circles under his eyes from countless nights without proper sleep, and worry lines made from blood and soot that had somehow smeared all over his cheeks and forehead. He looked how she felt. Without another thought Byleth reached up and ran her fingers over his jaw and up to his beard. It had been the first thing she'd done when they'd reunited after she'd awoken to this new hellish world almost a year ago. It felt right.

Byleth smiled. "It is you."

His eyes seemed to deepen in color as they flooded with many nameless things at once. Before she could think to do anything else Claude had drawn her into a gentle embrace. He released a shaky breath in her ear and held the back of her head with one of his hands. Their movements however soft still hurt like a beast, but she figured he needed the contact just as much as she did.

"You gave me quite the scare there, my friend." He spoke with his usual lightness but even as half dead as she was, Byleth could feel the weight behind it. He'd been absolutely terrified for her.

Then she pulled away with a visible grimace and examined her wound. The fabric of her clothes had begun to stick to her skin. Blood had seeped all the way through her bandages. "Ah, sorry. Looks like I undid your handy work."

Claude tutted at her before helping her carefully back into her makeshift bedroll made from bundles of clothing and blankets. "The dressings are just about due to be changed out anyhow." He mused.

With silent understanding Byleth maneuvered herself so she could roll up her tunic and Claude could begin his work. Once he'd untied the bandages Byleth got a good look at the real damage underneath. It was a grisly, angry chunk of flesh by that point. _That's going to leave a mark._ Which was no doubt leagues better than the hole it had once been. Claude then hovered a hand over her belly until it began to pulse and glow with a dim white light. A familiar tingly sensation buzzed through her skin.

"You of all people know I'm not the greatest at this so uh, it'll take a while." He said with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I know it's cold out."

Byleth couldn't help a little smirk. "Look at you using bedside manner. Miracles do exist."

An incredulous mock gasp escaped him. "I'll have you know I am the epitome of a perfect gentleman!"

Byleth giggled at his antics. "Could've fooled me." Then a certain heavy silence rolled between them as they became lost in their own thoughts. Byleth wandered back to what had lead her to this moment. Rhea, Cyril, Nader.

"I'm guessing we lost." She said at last.

Claude met her eyes for a long moment and then heaved a sigh. "Yeah. The locket was conquered and destroyed by the same Almyran raiders who ambushed Cyril and I."

Byleth's gaze fell. "Cyril. He's in worse shape than I am."

Claude nodded. "Nader told me as much."

"Nader survived?"

He offered an empty smile at that. "He and most of his men managed to retreat in time. I couldn't risk moving you in your condition, even after the initial intensive care to, uh, bring you back from the brink." Byleth watched his eyes cloud over for a moment before he went on. "So they went on ahead back to Derdriu to send word to the Alliance lords and our allies at Garreg Mach. Tell them what's been going on and…figure out what to do next." There was a great weight in the way Claude said the last part. A shadow of something. An emptiness. "Whenever I pictured Fodlan's locket breaking down for good, it was never like this."

Byleth understood. Just when things had begun to look hopeful in regards to Fodlan and Almyran relations, a twist of fate had dragged them back to where they started. If not farther. Now they were facing another all out war. A war they couldn't afford as things stood. _Rhea was right after all._ Byleth's eyes lingered on Claude. _What does that mean for you?_

She shook her head to dismiss such thinking. There was no way to know yet. "Well, besides all that, I am still curious how it is that you were even here to come to my rescue. Disguised as the enemy no less." She said with a small gesture to his armor.

The darkness on Claude's face faded as his mind seemed to switch gears at her question. "Ah, that. After the ambush separated me and Cyril, I went into hiding in hopes of getting more information. If they thought I was dead they wouldn't come after me, and focus their efforts elsewhere."

Byleth furrowed her brows as she listened. "But, why would these Almyrans want you dead so badly? How could they have even known when and where to find you?"

Claude finally lowered his hand from Byleth's wound. His brows knit with concentration before he cleared his throat. Without meeting her eyes he began to apply new bandages from his travel pouch set beside them. "I'd assume you figured it out already given everything that's happened, but I have family in Almyra."

Byleth nodded. "Yes. I've known for a while. I figured you would tell me yourself when you were ready."

Claude gave a final tug at the end ties and leaned back with his own little smile. "Of course you did." He shook his head. "Well, with that out of the way, there's another piece to the story you might not know. Which is that my father is the uh, king of Almyra. Which makes me-"

This was news. "A prince? You're a prince?"

Claude gave a nervous laugh and put a hand behind his head. "At least I managed to surprise you there, eh? It's really the worst thing ever let me tell you. Especially given the trouble it's caused me since I left. That letter that started all this madness? It was an elaborate assassination attempt."

Byleth creased her brows. "If that's the case, is someone trying to overthrow your father? Is that really what all of this evil has been about?"

There was once again a visible change in Claude's demeanor. He rested a hand under his chin. "Having me out of the way wouldn't be enough incentive to come here and conquer the whole continent. There's a larger goal at play."

At the mention of a larger goal Byleth thought back to Hubert's letter and wondered if she should tell Claude all that it said. All that Rhea had said. All that had happened since he'd left, what felt like ages ago. She put a hand to her wounds, the dull pain that still throbbed there. No, such things were still her responsibility. Nothing had really changed. She had to remind herself their little reunion was still temporary. _Even if his original reason for leaving is null, he'll still need to go back home to make sure Almyra hasn't fallen into complete anarchy._

Then she remembered something. The face of the man who had nearly killed her. The way his eyes had shined that unnatural green color. The strange power he wielded. It had been a kind of magic she'd never seen or felt before. No mage, not even a seasoned warlock could do anything like he had done.

"Claude, what does _shahanshah_ mean?"

At hearing the admittedly butchered term leave her lips Claude's face snapped up with surprise. He blinked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Where did you hear that?"

The urgent tone in his voice unsettled her a little. "The man I fought. The one who ran me through. He casted a diversion spell over me. I heard it chanted in my head over and over again." She watched Claude's face became more and more serious and uncomfortable as she spoke. "What does it mean?"

Maybe it was too much to ask him to share something from his mother tongue? She couldn't think of a reason it would rattle him so much. "If it's too personal then-"

"King of Kings." He said finally. "_Shah_ means king. It's a title of the highest honor in Almyra." Then he turned his face. "The last man to earn that title was evidently my great grandfather when he unified the entire country under the current monarchy."

"Then for this new foe to proclaim such a title, he must be the one vying for the throne."

Claude's eyes drifted to the side with thought. Then a certain light of realization struck him. "It's not just about the throne. If he's who I think he is, that man is after much more than a crown."

"That man?" Byleth parroted. "Then you know him?"

"It's possible. I won't claim so prematurely. Either way, this guy means business."

She could almost hear the gears in his head start to turn. She put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Claude, you can't think I'm letting you do this on your own?" He opened his mouth to retort then closed it again. Byleth narrowed her eyes at him. He'd been about to say something careless.

"I can't travel far like this solo, and you would lose precious time escorting me back to Derdriu. Between the two of us healing this thing up," She gestured to her gut. "I can serve as your backup and keep you from doing anything too Claude-like."

He chuckled. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Byleth shot him a look. "Don't play coy with me. You know exactly what it means." It was a rare sight to see Claude roll his eyes at her. He'd really been banking on dumping her off with Nader hadn't he? "This isn't open for debate."

The slouch of his shoulders said he'd been just about to give in, when it seemed another persistent thought ghosted through his mind. His eyes flicked down to her wound for a moment before he spoke. "Teach, this isn't just another mission. This is, well, a whole other journey entirely. A whole other world you'd be thrust into. Something completely unrelated to Fodlan or anything you signed up for."

She studied him as he wasted his breath preaching at her. The way his brows creased, the emphatic gestures he made, the tone in his voice, and of course the haunted look in his eyes seemed to imply what his motive really was. Perhaps he wasn't even aware of it, or at least wanted to pretend that he wasn't. _He's scared._ Byleth lowered her brows at that. _But, why now? We've faced much greater odds than this._

"You forget. I never signed up for all the chaos Fodlan thrusted at us. My only real choice so far has been who I follow into battle." She said. "I'm not changing my mind on that now. You're my friend, and I won't stand by and let you walk to your death."

His expression hardened. He was doing it again, guarding himself. "You're not hearing me Teach. You already have big, fate altering burdens to carry back at Garreg Mach. Back with the other deer. They need you. I, well, I don't. Not like they do. You can't afford to just shirk that off to run around another country with me. I know how to do this alone. I have to."

Then Byleth saw it. His tell. His eyebrow twitched like it often did when they'd played cards or chess on their off days. Despite the seriousness of their weird little argument, she couldn't help but feel pleased with herself. _He's hiding something from me. He's hiding something and it's clear as day._

"What happened to, 'without you my schemes are nothing'?" She retorted. "I know you Claude, and I know my worth and where its best suited. You can't hide behind some enigmatic persona anymore. You're afraid of something and-"

"Please, my friend." He put a hand up to stop her. "I...I don't know what I'm going to find when I go home. I don't know what it'll do to me. Or, do to you. I need to ensure that one of us stays focused on the cause. Then, then I have something to hold on to."

_He's afraid of the unknown._ A new strange sensation came over her at this realization. The feelings it evoked almost too strong to analyze. Byleth wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him so badly how terrified she'd been watching him die over and over again in countless battles through the course of their journey. The nightmares she'd had while he was away. _If only. _All of the past month's events, all the stress and the worry and the fear she'd stuffed down since Claude had left was suddenly in her face and consuming her. Before she could do anything about it, Byleth started to cry.

Claude's face immediately washed over with concern. He put a hand over hers as his eyes finally softened. "Hey now. I'm sorry-"

Byleth squeezed his offered hand and met his eyes though her vision was blurred with tears. She sniffled. "No, it's nothing you said. I'm just, I'm thankful actually."

This seemed to confuse him. "What? Why?"

"I-I'm thankful," She hiccuped. "That you came back alive for us to even argue like this."

Her statement must have hit Claude like a stack of bricks because he made that same complex expression he'd worn back when she'd told him it was okay to leave in the first place. A face that she still didn't understand but really, really wanted to.

He moved to wipe away the tears still falling in a steady stream down her face. "I think I should be telling you that."

Byleth sniffled again. At his lingered touch a part of her started to feel a little silly. "All of this is so unlike me, I know." She said and let the shadow of her bangs shield her from his intense stare. "Acting like a blubbering child as the world falls apart around us."

Claude gave a soft laugh at that. "To think I once could've sworn you weren't human." Then he seemed to think of something else and his smile dimmed. "Actually, I guess I should tell you, since you can't see yourself. Your hair has changed color again."

The mood immediately changed. Byleth's face went slack of all the things she'd been swimming with before. "What? What do you mean? What color is it?" She pulled her head back to grab a piece of her hair, and sure enough, it was no longer that bright green she'd become used to. The color that had shown her merged state with Sothis, and her power as the enlightened one. Byleth felt sick.

Her hair was dark again.


	9. Unsteady

Claude gestured to stay low. Ever slow and careful he crawled on his belly among the sand and dry grass to take a peek over the next hill. Wyverns could be heard below, along with the low chatter of their riders.

Byleth felt droplets of sweat slide down her back as she waited for her signal. Traveling and living in the outdoors while she'd recovered hadn't been the greatest, but it was doable. Claude had managed to ration enough food and water for them both. Though the intense desert heat was new for her.

Claude beckoned her over. She nodded and crawled to the top of their little hiding spot to overlook the other side and size up the situation. There were three men. They appeared to be unloading supplies from the saddles on their mounts. There were strange insignias on their armor not of Almyra, based on Claude's odd reaction when he saw it. The patrols' larger weapons had been set against a dried tree stump, but they also carried short swords and daggers on their person.

"We can steal one." Claude whispered.

Byleth gave him a questioning look before following his gaze to the wyverns, and then back to his face. Sure it would more than halve their trip to the Almyran capital, but, she would also be miles from the ground. _Oh no._ _No, no, no_. Claude must have read her troubled expression because his face split into a devilish grin. She tried to pin him with a glare and a deepened frown. _Absolutely not! No! I will flay you alive! _He was on the move with bow in hand before Byleth could carry out her threat. She let her forehead fall into the sand. That man would be the death of her.

She followed his lead like clockwork. He moved to one side of the camp and she to the other. Their fun went sideways when one of the wyverns screeched in surprise, and the warriors began to shout orders at each other.

Claude managed to shoot one mount at the base of one of its wings which effectively grounded it, while Byleth made quick work of two of the three men. Then one of the wyverns went airborne. She attempted to extend her relic for a whip strike, but no pulse of light came. After a second attempt of swiping at air, the wyvern's talons were mere inches from Claude's body. She switched to her backup plan and reached out for a divine pulse.

As soon as she closed her fist to stop time, Byleth was assaulted with horrible, sharp chest pangs. She growled through it and yanked her arm to get at least a few seconds in. Blood dripped from her nose, her vision began to blur, and something electric shot through her arm. She was forced to let go. As time snapped back into motion Byleth screamed Claude's name before she hit the ground.

She woke to the sounds of another man's screams and scanned the camp. Claude had gotten her warning in time, the last conscious warrior in his grasp, with half an arrow embedded between the man's neck and shoulder.

He was spitting and gurgling curses at Claude in their native language with clear disgust. He kept saying one word over and over. _Do rageh_. Byleth had never seen real anger on Claude's face before. She saw it then. He remained outwardly composed, but his eyes. They might as well have been on fire.

As he shoved the arrowhead deeper into the man's flesh, Claude hissed a chilling reply and what sounded like some kind of demand. Byleth started to get up, but to her surprise, Claude put a hand up to stop her. The man's strangled words became angered whimpers. He twisted the arrow again. Another threat. Hacked up blood went with it.

Finally the man wheezed and gave a gutteral laugh. "_Mekean shekewh_." He said, and heaved his last breath. The light left his eyes.

Claude let the body slide into the sand with a puff of dust. She noticed his hands had begun to shake. He turned to her and walked over to help her up. "Are you alright?" His voice was monotone. Like he wasn't even there.

She wiped her nose and took his hand. "Somehow." Claude moved to pull away once she was on her feet, but she didn't let go. She felt the shaking, and gave him a gentle squeeze. "What about you?"

Claude avoided her eyes and released her hand. "I'm fine. I was just careless." He said. "The advantage is that I think I know where we need to go from here." He then left her side and approached one of the wyverns. He whispered something to it along with gentle shoosh noises to sooth it. Byleth doesn't miss the fact it was the last one alive.

She creased her brows in confusion. "I thought we were headed to the capital?"

Claude then gave their new mount a gentle pat. "At first. It turns out our destination is much closer. We should press on if we're to get there by sundown."

Byleth just stared at him. Sensing the weight in such quiet Claude glanced over his shoulder. She still said nothing, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he looked away. "What is it?" He finally asked.

She took a step forward and folded her arms. "What else did he say?"

Claude scoffed. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. "Nothing relevant to our task."

When Byleth continued to stare at his back, Claude let out a great sigh through his nose. Without a word he walked over to the dead men strewn about their campsite and one by one closed their eyes. She knew what the action meant. _It's okay_. _I'm still me. _That didn't mean she was no longer concerned, but she also knew pressing Claude further wouldn't get much else out of him. Perhaps he just needed time to process whatever had shaken him up. _Was this what he meant when he said he didn't know what going home would do to him? _

Then Byleth sniffed and felt where the last of the blood had started to dry, and wiped the rest of it off. With a strike of real terror, Byleth was forced to face the fact that whatever that so called king had done to her had somehow permanently tampered with her connection to Sothis. She'd hoped things would slowly return to normal as her injuries healed, but her hair color hadn't changed back either. She hadn't even had any dreams at all since the battle. It was as if she'd been bound, or cursed by some strange outside force. How had one man managed that without destroying himself in the process? Where would he even have gotten such a god defying ability?

Byleth desperately wanted to ask Claude about how magic was used and viewed in his land. Though it would mean also answering his own questions about time travel and its consequences. She didn't need him fretting over her every time she used what remained of her powers. Nor did she want to burden him unnecessarily, since there was so much still left to the unknown. There was also a smaller, much more human reason that she wasn't ready to deal with yet.

"Okay, now it's my turn to be the nosy concerned friend." Claude dusted off his hands and seemed to put great effort into lightening his tone as he turned back to her. "Don't think I missed that bloody nose. You callapsed mid-swing before anything even hit you back there."

Byleth felt the surprise cross her face. She didn't think he'd been of the mind to notice or inquire about it yet. It took a moment for her to figure out a response. How to tell just enough of the truth to suffice while holding back the core of things. Suddenly Judith's words came back to her like some annoying, yet well meaning ghost. _Be genuine_. She grumbled to herself as her conscience pricked at her. _I can't, Judith. Not this time. _

"I think I'm still recovering from the injury. Whatever magic I was attacked with seems to be messing with my balance. I'm sorry you were forced to kill those men because of it."

She felt Claude's eyes study her with great intensity. She felt her pulse pound in her ears. Was that the first time she'd outright lied to him? Could he see right through it?

His sigh broke through her thoughts. "No, it's my own fault this happened. It was clearly too soon for us to go into combat. We'll just need to avoid any more patrols we see from here on." Then he began to pack up the food and water the warriors had been unloading before the ambush. "Once we reach our destination I'll have the healers there take a closer look at you."

Byleth nodded and began to help him. As she went for a water skin that had fallen next to one of the bodies, she caught a better look at the insignia branded into the shoulder plates of the armor. It appeared to be some kind of winged chimera creature with the head of a lion and a sword held between its teeth.

"Is this some sort of faction in Almyra?" She asked.

Claude turned and caught what she was looking at. He stopped what he was doing to study it with her. "No that's definitely new. Though for them to parade around such a brand in the open like this, and so close to the border…it would be treason against the royal family under normal circumstances."

The implication was clear. Byleth frowned with a fold of her arms. "Unless something has already happened to embolden such a stand." She turned to watch Claude's reaction. He remained stoic.

Then Byleth realized something. "Wait. Why didn't the Almyrans who attacked us before bear this brand on the battlefield? They wore traditional armor. Are they not unified?"

Claude didn't seem phased by her question, which meant he had already since entertained it. "I have several theories."

Byleth narrowed her eyes at his vague reply. "Theories you won't share until you have more information I'm guessing?"

He flashed her a wink. "You do know me so well, Teach."

She deflated with a sound of irritation. _This man. _

"We should go." He said at last. "We've got a lot of ground yet to cover, and not much daylight left to do it."

After some more boyish teasing and an inner pep talk with herself, Byleth managed to swing into the wyvern's saddle behind Claude without much further resistance. She just, didn't look down the entire ride. Or, at anything around them. Ever. In fact she clung to Claude's torso for dear life, and buried her face into his back for the first hour or so. She felt Claude's rumble of laughter when there was a sudden jerk or altitude shift and she all but suffocated him until things leveled out. Byleth found a certain comfort in it though. Even if his laughter was shallow, it was a nice change of mood.

It didn't last.

They eventually came upon their destination. A small town settlement, completely in ruin. Recently, by the looks of the dying embers that still glowed from the remains of the charred buildings around them. Ash flew up in thick clouds as Claude descended them to ground level. They covered their faces with the cloaks they'd taken from their stolen supplies.

Claude slid from the saddle and helped Byleth down as well. Her legs felt like jelly and she wobbled on her feet at first. She braced their beast to steady herself, and watched as Claude took slow steps ahead of her. She didn't need to see his face to know he was…not alright.

A chilled evening wind howled through the empty streets. Bits of life and livelihood rolled abandoned with the sandy ashes. Vultures circled overhead, and the stench of burned flesh and death tainted the air.

A watery, embittered sound escaped Claude's throat. He knelt down and took some of the sand between his fingers. "_Mekean shekewh."_ he echoed. "Indeed."

Byleth stepped forward. She was crudely reminded of Remire village. The fires that had spread and swallowed up everything there. The innocents that had fallen amidst such senseless acts if violence in the name of some grand cause. As someone who had felt so indebted to the people there, it still made her sick. Her eyes fixated on her friend. It had to be hundreds of times worse for him. To know as a leader, as a future ruler of this land, they were mere hours too late.

"Claude…?"

He turned back to her with puffy, red eyes. "This was a merchant town, the 'glory place'." He forced himself to say. "My grandfather founded it to establish travel and trade along neutral territories across the border. It was meant to be a boiling pot of culture and exposure for both sides. It was, also where my parents first met." He cleared his throat and wiped at his nose as he rose to his feet. "Of course it'd be the first to go."

Byleth tried not to linger on the absolute devistation as she went to stand at his side. "What were you hoping to find here?" She asked in a low, soft tone.

The intense urge to touch him, to hold his hand, came over her, but she hesitated. As touchy as Claude usually was, something about this moment felt too sacred to intrude upon. For the first time in a long time, she felt like an outsider again. In an entirely new way.

"Survivors." He answered. Then he shook his head. "Things are getting worse much quicker than I thought they would. We'll have to go deeper inland to find allies. There are many more places just like this that need someone to defend them."

"And lead them." Byleth added.

Claude gave her a look and another void smile. "Oh I don't doubt they have one. That's actually who we're tracking. I guess I should have mentioned that before."

"What? Who?"

Claude turned to face her fully. "My mother."


	10. Living Ghosts

As they continued farther and farther eastward Byleth began to compare and contrast the differences between Fodlan and Almyra.

At first she didn't think much about why she was doing it. Perhaps it was something to pass the time as they traveled, or just a moderate level of curiosity. As time went on though, she started to pick up on the strange softness that would bloom in her chest whenever she would find something new she had struggled to imagine as a child from Araxa's stories. From the little creatures that would scurry across the road, to the much more vibrant hues of the wide, ever changing sky. Even the air itself _smelled _different.

On the rare occasions a breeze roamed over the hills Byleth would slide off the hood of her cloak for a moment to let it tussle the ends of her hair. Though she still carried Fodlan's fate on her shoulders, for moments like that, she could forget.

Then another phantom feeling would pass through her when the air had settled again. Her thoughts would tie back down to the all but lifeless sword at her hip and the many ideals and memories that were tied to it. _Father. Araxa. I wish you were here with me. _

Claude for his part had seemed to enjoy watching her "micro-expressions" as he'd once called them. Especially when they would begin to set up camp in the evenings. Byleth would catch him staring at her once her mind had come back to the present. Instead of saying anything he would just smile and resume whatever task he'd been doing. It wasn't uncomfortable, but she found she couldn't look him in the eyes for a while afterwards, which was inconvenient.

That was another new development Byleth had noticed. Since their trek from the merchant town and the mention of their task to find his mother, Claude had become very quiet. So quiet in fact that any movements he made felt potent somehow without him talking her ear off in the background. That was when she realized how much he liked to fidget with things. She still hadn't been able to decide if it was a good thing or not. At first he'd seemed troubled and sad, but his lack of chattiness had since changed to something heavier and more prolonged. One could argue Claude had moments of that sort before. Byleth knew his mind was much quicker than hers, prone to entangle in on itself and keep him awake. It was becoming apparent that wasn't what this was. Byleth knew very little about Claude's family, but it seemed the subject of his mother in particular was some kind of sore spot for him. _Why? _

One night after they'd eaten and tucked in to go to sleep, she'd listened to Claude toss and turn in his bed roll for what had to be the fourth night in a row. He eventually seemed to give up and instead sat back up to look at the stars. After a moment or two, Byleth ended up vocalizing her question. There was no point trying to sleep with all his restless energy rolling onto her side of the camp anyway.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her voice snapped Claude out of his trance and the outline of his head turned in her direction. "Oh, Teach, I didn't realize you were still up."

He took another moment to gather a proper answer, which they both knew she would only keep pressing him for. "Home, I guess. Being here after so many years. How different things are." Another long pause. "And, how _not _different I am."

"What do you mean?" Byleth asked.

"I was a boy when I left. A boy full of admittedly insane, world altering dreams just so I had something else to focus on, rather than what was going on around me. As noble as I'd like to sound, I have to be honest." He stopped, and the mist of his breath swirled against the moonlit sky and the dying embers of their campfire. "Everything started from a place of fear, and a desperation to make sense of it. I'm lucky enough to be making any real progress with those ambitions because of you, but - for such a dream to take root in a land like this, where open fear is some kind of sin, I -"

He stole another breath, as if he were steeling himself to confess. The crickets seemed especially loud then. "Teach, I'm starting to think it might take another miracle we don't have. Look what being here has already done to you." His voice carried hints of tightness and stress as he gestured to her hair. "You barely escaped with your life, and I couldn't stop what that man did to you. Whatever it was."

Byleth frowned at Claude's shadow. She'd never heard him like this before. Blaming himself for something so impossible, so out of his control. It didn't sound like a new thought process for him either. It seemed almost rehearsed, just never before said outloud. _Things are really getting to him now, aren't they?_

With some sort of final resolution she rose from her bed roll, bundled in a fur blanket, and went to sit next to him. The action seemed to hold his tongue. She said nothing to break that spell. They just sat like that until their eyes naturally drifted back up to the security of the stars. She had no answers for him, after all. No promises that would hold any real weight. Only an unspoken understanding that for once he wasn't alone.

It was hard not to doubt yourself when there was something you wanted so badly to come true, and it was something you would inevitably need others' help to accomplish. On a tramendous scale in their case. Byleth had heard such self doubt before in Claude's voice when he'd first told her of his ambitions on a starry night just like this one. He'd asked her if she thought such a thing as world unification was a mere pipe dream.

She rested her head against his shoulder. She thought again of people like Araxa. Even people like herself, who had always been looked at differently. The harsh, cold stares she'd often received, and seen others give to each other for seemingly no reason. Even the anger, either righteous or hate filled. She'd watched what it had done to both sides. It was a battle nobody really won.

While in contrast, when Byleth walked into the seemingly separate realm that was Gerreg Mach, she'd somehow been lucky enough to find something else. A comfort and contentment that came from just being accepted for who she really was. Her eyes wandered back to Claude. Through that acceptance she'd found hope. So for those same feelings to be a reality for everyone else? _If it is a crazy dream,_ _then_ _it's one I think I've been dreaming of my whole life, too. _

Without thinking much of it, as the moon rose higher and higher and the time grew late, Byleth started to drift off. She almost didn't notice Claude shift his weight to lean back against her, an arm and blanket draped around them both as his chin moved to rest on the top of her head. Almost.

* * *

Then Byleth drempt.

There was an abyss of nothingness below her. A distant low hum traversed such darkness. The air itself felt stagnant and lifeless. She was everywhere, and nowhere. Her eyes searched the void. She knew what this was, what it meant.

"Sothis?" Byleth called out. "Are you here?" She started to walk through. Her heels clicked against some strange solid surface and her footsteps echoed around her. No answer.

The expanse suddenly felt too wide, too infinite to her. She forced her lungs to expand as breathing became difficult. Had the air gotten thicker? Byleth's hands became clammy. She flexed them and she picked up the pace. "Sothis!" She found herself shouting this time. The panic in her voice was even more unsettling to her. "Please!" Her voice broke. "Help me! Help _us_!"

Again no answer. Byleth stopped walking and instead stared down the emptiness. "Why am I here if you won't answer?" Her panicked tone became harsher. "_Sothis_!"

Then a throne appeared. The same one she had seen so many times before. A throne only worthy of a goddess. Byleth approached it slowly. Step by step up the stairs until she was directly in front of it. She felt a pull, a calmness take over. A desire not her own, and reached out. Her hand began to glow.

The darkness became consumed within its bright, golden light. There was no pain as Byleth remained still. Though it felt as if something were leaving her body. Perhaps even her soul.

With a final wisp of breath Byleth fell to her knees as the light ceased. A hand rested stop her head. Byleth's eyes flew open and she snapped her head up to meet the divine goddess of Fodlan herself. Except, she looked different. She was older. The soft, impish features of the child Byleth had known were longer, matured and elegant. Regal, even. She was eerily reminded of Rhea in that moment.

"Sothis?" She found herself asking.

The woman before her offered her a gentle smile. It was almost unsettling. "Hello again." She answered, and lowered herself to take Byleth by the hands and pull her to her feet. "You certainly are full of surprises even still. I wasn't expecting to ever regain my true form, let alone like this."

Byleth continued to study her. Even her voice was different. Her voice inflections. Her demeanor and way of speaking. Unlike the Sothis of before, Byleth suddenly felt as though she were really speaking to someone not of the physical world. As her shock settled though, questions flooded her mind. She parted her lips to speak, but couldn't even find the words to ask them.

Sothis gave a light chuckle and lowered Byleth's hands. "I can see your confusion. It's a little of a mystery to me as well, though I can only assume it has to do with what happened to you back at Fodlan's locket." She said. "I've regained some of my memories as well. Memories you would have had no way of restoring to me on your own."

Immediate flashes of memory came to her. The Almyran who had run her through, the sheer agony she'd felt. As if her heart itself had been pulled on and nearly removed. Byleth's eyes widened. "Is that how we're speaking like this? Did that man separate us again?"

Sothis expression reflected worry. "Yes. In a way that cannot be undone, I'm afraid. That man has gained access to another's power that rivals my own."

"Another's? You mean another goddess? There are others?"

She nodded. "Do you recall when we first met, how I referred to myself as The Beginning?"

"Yes. Wasn't it just your way of explaining that you were the goddess who created Fodlan?"

Said goddess smiled again. "It was. Though if I am indeed that beginning, there must also then be an end, so to speak. An equal, opposing force to establish a balance between creation and destruction. Life, and death. Good and evil."

Byleth allowed a moment for such a concept to sink in. "Okay, so, who is it then?"

"His name is Midian." Sothis let her gaze drift aside as she folded her arms. "He was with me before time began. He is my equal in every way. I'd say the human equivalent of our relationship is that if siblings. I had thought he was sealed away eons ago, long before Fodlan's bloody beginnings, but-"

"Someone has bonded with him to take on his abilities, like I have yours." Byleth finished.

Sothis sighed. "Given his power was what attacked us, and at the same time gave me back my true form, it seems to be the only explanation. Though how, or why, is an even greater concern."

Byleth frowned at that. "I can think of some reasons, but why are you concerned?"

Sothis met her eyes with intense focus. "Byleth, however he has come to escape his confines Midian's power nearly killed you. Our bond was nearly severed. You've not yet achieved your purpose and all would have come to an end were you not saved at the last moment. As we are, there is no way to oppose my brother."

"Wait, what are you saying? We can't stop him? Ever?"

Sothis shook her head. "We can. But if we were to face him in battle…Byleth, in order to defeat him I would also need to die." She pointed to Byleth's chest. "And my heart which resides in you, would stop."

The implications felt like a slap to the face. As a mercenary the prospects of death were not foreign. Byleth had been alright with her own mortality, once. Though now perhaps for the first time, a new crippling helplessness came over her. Her mind rushed to Claude, to the deer back home, to her dreams of a brighter future. To save those things, to preserve all that she'd come to love and live for, Byleth realized she would have to die for them.

At the sight of Byleth's tears Sothis reached up a hand to her cheek. "You truly are human now."

As if on cue, another distant voice called her name. It was Claude. Byleth looked between she and the direction his voice echoed from.

Sothis rested a hand on her shoulder. "This is goodbye again then my dear." She said. "Go to him. He needs you."

"But, I have-!"

She was met with a hard shove by the shoulders off of the throne steps. "_Go_!"

And then Byleth was falling.


	11. Bridges and Rifts

"-up, we need to move!"

Shock rolled through her system as Byleth was quite literally shaken back to consciousness. Dawn had broken. The cold morning air rushed to her lungs and nipped at her skin. She found herself face to face with a panicked looking Claude von Riegan, who had both hands on her shoulders.

She tapped his chest haphazardly to get him to release her. "What? What's happening?"

Her sword was thrusted into her arms in response before she could register her companion had even let her go. "Sorry for the rude awakening but you weren't coming to. We've been found out."

No sooner after they'd both stood and brandished their weapons, their makeshift campsite was swooped upon by a band of linen garbed wyvern riders. Their faces were covered with cloth masks and smeared with black powder of some kind so that only the dark colors of their eyes were visible. The mount Claude had stolen before was seized while the remaining members pointed their weapons at them, their beasts screeching and snarling at them. Byleth wished there was something she could say or do, but what little Almyran she knew wouldn't help her here. _Why isn't Claude saying anything? _

Several tense seconds passed. Then a woman's voice boomed from somewhere out of view. Whatever she said was spoken so quickly in Almyran that Byleth couldn't grasp any keywords or phrases. Though the tone was clearly hostile, even haughty, in a way meant to demand attention and obedience.

The ring of beasts parted on the far side so their leader could walk through on foot. She was of shorter stature, but of similar build and garb to her men. The only other difference was the sword she carried. Its hilt was carved into intricate patterns with what appeared to be golden embellishments. Byleth willed herself not to show any open confusion. She wanted to gauge Claude's reaction for any further clues, but knew she couldn't let her guard down.

The woman stopped a foot or so away and eyed the two of them with deliberate intensity. Though when she looked from Byleth to Claude and back again her expression changed. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, until something seemed to dawn on her. She let out a guttural scoff as she slid her blade back into its sheath at her hip.

To Byleth's greater surprise, she was able to understand the woman's next words. "So, you finally show your face, _brother_."

She looked at Claude then. Shoulders squared with head held high, his eyes remained level with his so-called sister as his lips curved into a familiar smirk. The smirk of a schemer.

"You remembered me! I'm touched Adira, truly."

The remark earned him an eye roll before the woman Adira moved to raise her right arm up to address her men. She spoke louder, but slow enough for Byleth to decipher her orders to stand down. The riders each let their beasts land in a great swirling puff of dust and sand, and lowered their weapons with a subtle delay of confusion.

As they did so, Claude - after flashing Byleth a knowing look - asked in the Fodlan tongue, "Is my mother alive?"

Adira held his stare for a moment longer before she pulled the mask from her face so her words came through clearer. "Of course she is."

Despite everything Claude allowed himself a visible sigh of relief. "Good."

Something else came to Byleth's mind at this exchange and with a little stolen boldness she asked, "Has the royal family gone into hiding?"

As if both startled and offended at another voice intruding upon her strange family reunion, Adira made a point to turn with slow and deliberate movements from her brother to make eye contact with Byleth. With her mask lowered, the full impact of her skeptical expression reached. Opinions and perhaps slighting thoughts seemed to brew and stir just behind her tongue. Byleth couldn't help but find herself a little amused at the display. So much energy had been wasted on attempts at intimidation. What was this woman trying to prove? And to whom?

Through it all Adira seemed to have decided to ignore her after that, and addressed Claude instead. "Clearly you've made friends on the other side."

This changed his expression. His brows and tone lowered with pointed seriousness. "The question is valid. What happened at the palace?"

His sister bristled at the wording for some reason and a certain fire entered her eyes. "You asked for your mother's wellbeing, but not for our father's?"

Exasperation flashed across Claude's face for an instant before he replied. "My mother would sooner die before she left our father behind for any reason. If she lives, so does he. You know that just as well as I do. So stop these games and answer my companion's question."

The woman smiled with some strange kind of satisfaction, as if she got the answer she was looking for. Adira's posture smoothed out of its previous tension and a fist planted itself at her hip. "There was a coup. Those of us that survived, including the royal family, have fled to a remote location north of here."

Claude didn't appear surprised, and allowed his gaze to fall aside. "Then it's true. Almyra has divided in on itself."

A turbulent frustration seemed to boil from within as Adira's face contorted with anger. "I'm guessing your being here means that _dog _must have made his way across the border."

Claude nodded. "_Mekean Shekewh_ was burned to the ground, and the Locket stronghold in Fodlan as well."

Adira gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

Byleth couldn't mask her confusion at their exchange. Why was no one calling this foe by name if they clearly knew who he was? Though she supposed it wouldn't matter much to her if they did. _But it's still strange. _

"Well, let's go then." Adira said after another intense pause. "We'll escort you to the settlement so you can see for yourself how we've fared."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel back to her own mount, and echoed those new orders to her men as well. Claude's wyvern was then released, and a path made for them to climb into its saddle.

Though her face was partially covered by the hood of her cloak, Byleth could feel the piercing stares amidst a different, even thicker kind of tension from Adira's men as they walked. She recalled what Claude had once told her about how Almyrans viewed people from across the border as spineless cowards. Her pale skin, vibrant hair color, and perhaps many other things she herself wasn't aware of would have given away where she was from. It was in direct contrast to so many of their own features she could make out.

She thought of making some kind of strong gesture about it, or saying something to cut through that tension to show she was unaffected or unafraid, but thought against it just as quickly. Such statements would only reach with the right timing and approach. For now, there was nothing to prove to complete strangers.

Byleth then swung her leg onto their beast and wrapped her arms around Claude's torso for grip, all the while internally numb with the weight of her many other thoughts and questions. His gentle tap on her hand broke into that fog before she could wander too far away. He turned his head to look at her and offered a little nod as if to say, 'I know this is crazy. We'll talk later.'

Byleth couldn't help but frown as he turned back to flick the reigns and send their beast airborne. Her gut clenched with the altitude change and she forced her eyes to remain open while the ground and all its details began to blur out of focus and grew farther and farther from reach.

Though their new journey had only just begun, she had started to realize how much about her so-called close friend that she still didn't know. The prospect of finding those answers wasn't much of a reassurance either. Her eyes drifted ahead towards Claude's sister who was of course at the head of their little flock.

She thought back to her knife and sword with a new, conflicted sensation. Claude had always kept secrets, and now she had some real ones of her own. Her mortality, the fate of the world itself. Since when had she felt, _alone _in that prospect?

The dense pit that had seemed to make a home in her gut grew heavier. For once, and for a reason Byleth couldn't pinpoint to begin with, she found herself a little unsure and even more unprepared for whatever lay ahead.


	12. Intuition

By the time they reached the settlement, the last of their daylight began to sink behind them on the western horizon. It left the sky ignited with beautiful blends of reds, oranges, and golds. Twilight was often a reflective and muted affair in Fodlan, but there in Almyra even the end of such a long day somehow felt alive.

Below, tents were pitched in rows, framed by dotted lines of flickering torch light. The streets themselves were draped across with cloth that worked to protect from the elements. Within any and every open space Byleth could distinguish, there seemed to be a cluster of people watching and waiting for them to land. Though she could only hear the sounds of wyvern wings beating against the wind, it wasn't hard to imagine the roar of gossip going on down there at the sight of an extra member in their party.

When Adira gave the signal and lead them into their final descent Byleth felt Claude stiffen in her arms. His usually smooth and natural movements became forced and over-calculated. Their wyvern even gave an angry growl as Claude jerked on the reins so hard that its metal bit dug into the corners of its mouth. Byleth eyed the back of his head with concern. Just like back at _Mekean Shekewh_ she was drawn to comfort him, but again felt like such an outsider to whatever he was feeling that she couldn't bring herself to follow through. Given what she had decided to continue keeping from him, maybe things were better that way.

When their little flock finally touched down in a swirling heap of dust and sand, she was quick to drop her arms from his torso. _What's wrong with me? _A wave of numbness pulled her from the moment entirely. She didn't even notice Claude had slid out of their shared saddle until he tapped at her leg to get her attention and offered his hand to help her down.

When she met his eyes, his face brightened with mirth. "You really don't like flying do ya, Teach?"

She blinked in surprise. It must have had to do with how windblown and miserable she looked. With an annoyed huff she slapped his hand away to fumble to the ground herself. "Yes, yes, I'm not blind to the irony."

His little boyish smirk split into a full, toothy grin. "And so cranky about it! I'll have to stash that information away for later."

She hated that his antics were making her feel both better and worse for different reasons. He was using her as a distraction for his own nerves, but she couldn't shake the phantom relief at seeing him smile because of that. She wanted to believe in his illusions so badly. _Why_ _is it so hard for him to admit he's not okay? _A bitter, humorless sound escaped under her breath, and Byleth dismissed her thoughts with it. That was a stupid question.

"You're exhausting." She grumbled.

Claude's reaction said that was somehow what he wanted to hear. He turned away from her with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. "Too bad someone made sure we're stuck together to the end of this thing then, huh?"

Something about how he said it felt like a blow to the gut. Her whole body went stiff as words flew from her mind. Byleth just stood there stunned. Unsure what she was feeling, and unsure why it mattered.

When Claude finally noticed she hadn't made her usual sassy retort he turned back to look at her, and his smile dropped. Whatever face she was making, it was enough to get his attention. There was another one of their shared unspoken understandings, where a single thought clicked itself in place.

_Something's wrong. _

Just as Claude opened his mouth to say something about it, another voice cut into the tension like a bucket of cold water.

"Are you two done? The Queen waits for us." Byleth turned to see Adira, brow raised, gear in hand, and a fist planted at her hip. Her stance left no room for argument.

Claude didn't even bother to look over as he shut his eyes and took a breath through his nose. "Impatient as ever."

There was no time given to settle or rest. Adira led them straight to the Queen's tent, which happened to be in the center of the settlement. Her men pressed in on them on all sides. The people's eyes pried into Byleth's skin as they walked. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she made a point to square her shoulders and straighten her posture. _Strength, strength, strength. _She said as a mantra to herself.

Then fingers laced with her own. Byleth's eyes widened at the foreign contact. She glanced down at her right hand, and saw that it was grasped firmly with Claude's left. He made no other show that anything was amiss. His eyes were fixed forward, a new confidence in his gait. _It's okay, Teach. We've got this. _She could swear she heard his voice in her head, and a ringing in her ears. Had she ever been reassured this way? She took a deep breath. Finally, a calm settled over her. She met his eyes with the smallest of smiles and squeezed. _Thank you. _He winked at her just as the large tent flap was parted for them.

There at the back of the room inside, cross legged on a lavishly vibrant woven rug, sat the rightful Queen of Almyra herself. The first thing Byleth noticed was that Claude had her eyes.

All gave a brief salute except Adira, who's own expression had notably hardened. "Highness, your son has-"

The woman raised a hand and slowly rose to her feet. A great pause thickened the air. Mother and son were face to face. Claude let go of Byleth. In his filthy, beaten pieces of Almyran armor and a face shiny with smeared dirt and sweat, he stepped forward. He was no longer the dreamer boy that had run away from home, but a grown man. He was now a battle worn leader, brandished with a purpose.

Claude's mother turned to Adira. "Leave us." It was said in the Fodlan tongue.

She flinched at the order and furrowed her brows with clear disapproval, but saved face and ordered her men to follow her out in Almyran. As they did so Byleth couldn't help a questioning look to the older woman. Wasn't Adira also family? Then she realized her own lack of station and moved to leave also.

"No dear, please stay." Her tone was firm but gentle. Byleth met eyes with the Queen, who just smiled in response. Claude had remained incredibly still the entire time.

So the _crack_ of skin against skin in the next moment was, to say the least, unexpected. A grunt of pain rumbled in his throat while his face was whipped to the side as his mother struck him, but Claude did nothing else.

"You are a _fool_ to return this way." The Queen scolded as she lowered her hand and made a point to wipe it against her outer robe.

A wave of what had to be second-hand shame reached Byleth's core. She made a look of concern and confusion. Why had the Queen let her stay just to witness this? There was nothing she could do. This scene between them felt so private and intense. _I don't belong here. I don't understand. _

Claude sighed, but turned back to look his mother in the eyes, his right cheek reddened into the shape of a handprint. "How could I do anything different?" His tone mirrored his mother's. Strangely compassionate and stubborn.

There was almost too much subtext for Byleth to decipher, but it made her think of her father. She even thought of Araxa. Times they had scolded her or disciplined her. It was always out of concern and worry for her safety. Though she had no mother to compare that with, perhaps it was still something like that? Concern?

As if to prove her point, the Queen then reached up to tug on the tips of Claude's facial hair. Her stricken expression softened. "You are a man now. How strange..."

Despite everything, Claude couldn't help but laugh. "Thought I wouldn't make it?"

A twinkle of amusement came to the woman's eyes. "Oh no. It's just a shame you inherited your Uncle's inability to grow a full beard after all."

Byleth couldn't stop the snickered laughter that bubbled at the back of her throat. No one had had the nerve to say anything like that to his face. She decided that she liked this woman.

Her laughter seemed to break the family spell and they both turned to her. Claude looked a bit wounded and his mother offered a very familiar little smirk. "And who is this beautiful companion of yours, my son?"

In the split second before Claude answered, Byleth realized she had never actually heard him say her name before. "This is Byleth Eisner, mother. She has been instrumental in my affairs within Fodlan. I assure you, if it weren't for this woman, I wouldn't be alive today."

The Queen took her hand so that it could grip her forearm in what Byleth recognized as a traditional warrior's greeting. Araxa had shown it to her once. "Such high praise. Then it appears I am in your debt, Byleth." There was a strange tilt to the queen's voice. A sort of knowing? It reminded her very much of Judith for some reason. "Of course I am a ruler here by marriage, but titles and formalities are wasted on those who do not care for them. My name is Malota. Please call me such."

Byleth released the woman's arm and gave a solemn nod. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the mother of someone who has done so much for me. It's, it's an honor." She surprised herself with how sincere her words were, but Malota seemed especially pleased with them.

She looked to Claude with that same knowing smile. "Indeed. Well, with introductions made, I'd like to discuss the more serious business of Almyra's current sorry state of affairs. Though not here and now. I need you both fresh and ready for that kind of talk."

This seemed to catch Claude's attention. "Byleth was also recently injured. If it's permissible I'd like the healers to take a closer look at her wound to ensure it's been healing properly."

Malota gave a serious, contemplative look at such information. "Those implications do not bode well. But yes, of course. I'll provide you both a change of clothes and whatever else you ask for. Though not for nothing." Her tone became almost mischievous as her voice raised in volume from what had to be excitement. "You must permit me to hold a celebratory feast in honor of your arrival!"

There was an initial delay of surprise before Claude burst into laughter. "Mother, with all due respect, are there enough resources for something on that scale?"

Malota just smacked his arm with mock offense. "Do not feign an air of responsibility with me, young man. You've been away far too long." Her eyes seemed to deepen in color as her voice thickened with emotion. "Let an old woman welcome her son home. Please."

Byleth watched them hold a last meaningful look with her own private smile before Claude gave her a nod, and led them out. She still didn't fully understand the whirlwind of a family reunion she'd basically been forced to witness. Though based on its unique sort of intensity, there was a real sense of warmth and loyalty to be found there. Some small part of her wondered what it would have been like for Claude to grow up with that sort of dynamic in his life. For the first time in a long time, she thought of the ring her father had left behind for her and the person it had once belonged to. She wondered if she had her own mother's eyes like Claude did.

There was no time to discuss or process once they were outside though. A set of guards and an ever grumpy Adira quickly herded them in different directions towards where they were to stay for the night until better accommodations could be provided. Claude sent her a mock salute as he disappeared in the crowd with promises that he'd see her later for the feast.

A few hours and a coma-like nap later, Byleth found herself seated with Adira on the floor of her tent with her tunic rolled up. The woman held her hand steady as the equivalent of white magic ran through her fingertips to what remained of the wound from Midian's mysterious servant.

Her mind swam and entangled itself with questions in the stiff and borderline hostile quiet that Adira had insisted she needed to focus. _How did someone like her end up being a healer? _She thought with a bit of a frown. Though it was the first time she'd gotten a closer look at the woman. Her long dark hair was tied up into a high ponytail and her face spoke of unbreakable concentration. Byleth could see some familial resemblance the longer she looked, but the high rise of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, the soft angles of her jawline, and even her eye shape and color, all looked unlike either Claude or Malota. _Maybe she takes more after their father? _

"Don't they have manners where you're from?"

Byleth blinked back to reality at the boom of her voice. "Pardon?"

Adira pinned her with a glare. "Your incessant staring distracts me. Look at the wall."

She gave a thoughtful pause then complied. The strange tingly sensation in her gut began to feel warm. She seemed to be regaining some feeling back, which seemed to imply it was working. "Does everything look alright down there?"

Adira gave a breathy scoff, unhappy at being bothered with conversation. "This was done by an amateur, which means scarring. Otherwise you will be fine."

Another painfully long pause. Just as Byleth opened her mouth to ask another awkward question there was a sudden, dull pulse from her wound. Adira flinched in surprise and counteracted by placing her open palm over the scar tissue.

A shot of electric pain coursed through her body at the contact. Byleth cried out and doubled over to curl into a tight ball from the shock. Her insides burned white hot as her screams shattered the silence. She felt herself being pulled upright and another pair of hands seemed to pin her in place by force. Maybe there was shouting, maybe they were trying to talk to her. All Byleth could hear was herself. A sudden, true fear crashed over her as the sensation of being ripped apart from the inside out overtook her. _I-I can't breathe. I can't breathe! _An image flashed through her mind. A face, a man. The one who had run her through, closing his hand into a fist and squeezing. Then came the echoes of those same thousands of voices. They chanted in her ears the same words as before.

"_Shahanshah! Shahanshah! Shahanshah!"_

Though along with them came a new voice. One she had never heard before. Deep, smooth, and sinister it spoke to her. "_Eisner. You are mine now._"


	13. Intertwined

_The familiar sounds of battle boomed from the walls of Byleth's room. She could feel as men were slammed against the wood outside and the steel that sometimes followed through a little too late afterwards. A little too high. A little too low to get the job done._

_Long since graduated from her little knife, Byleth kept a hand on the hilt of a sword she'd bought herself a few weeks ago. Still itching to see its first real fight._

_She couldn't seem to shake a strange feeling that had wound itself up in her gut as the fighting dragged on. An urgency she didn't understand. She wasn't shaking, so it wasn't fear. Instead, every muscle in her body boiled with the stillness inside her room. She wanted to use her weapon. She wanted to go out and face the men who had gotten in their way. Her father and his men were out there, giving it their all. Why couldn't she?_

_Then there was an especially loud, heavy bang! against the back wall. It made such an impact that Byleth's head smacked against it and she had to move away. A man's gurgled screech of pain came through._

_She didn't think again. Byleth scrambled to her feet and ran outside. Several of her father's hired hands were already dead on the ground, bleeding out from gaping wounds that would never close. A few of the opposing side had lost some too. They looked even more grisly and mangled._

_Byleth found her father on the far side, evenly matched with one of the bandits. All of the fighters were still heads taller than her. More worn, more built. Too engrossed in battle to notice her yet. Their movements were quick, fluid, and sharp. Then there she was, a gangly and lean little girl with her shiny new sword._

_Another especially loud scream broke her trance. She recognized it instantly. _Araxa_. She ran on until she came to a clearing, the heart of the fight._

_"Byleth!" Her father finally shouted as she charged past. She ignored him. Ignored what she knew he would order her to do. She made it just in time to watch her world crumble to nothing._

_Her friend, her family, her teacher was run through the chest and pinned to a tree at the hand of a nameless bandit and his bloodied blade._

_"Araxa!"_

* * *

A memory she had spent years trying to outlive, and outrun. The day Byleth Eisner had met _him_. He who had been given many names, and taken just as many lives. The day Death, The End, Midian himself had shaken her hand and shackled her with it. Cursed and blessed all at once.

Those events played and replayed in her mind as if without end. The sounds of her own screams threatened to tear her reality apart, growing in volume and desperation, until - It just, stopped.

Byleth jolted to consciousness with rapid breaths and a dried mouth. Her vision was blurred at first until slowly the cloth roof of a tent came into focus. An uncomfortable sheen of sweat sat between her skin and a simple tunic she didn't recall putting on. The room was cold, but her body told her she was on fire.

Disoriented, she lulled her head to the side. Claude's half-sister sat beside her; legs tucked. "You foreigners are dramatic." She grumbled.

Byleth blinked up at her with what surprise she could emote. The women might as well have been looking down at a dead rat with that expression. She attempted to sit up. The room went spinning. She slumped onto her side with a palm to her temple. _Okay, floor's good too. _

Adira made no move to help her.

There was a rustling of cloth as the tent flap was opened and in came another figure. "It is as I suspected."

Byleth turned and met eyes with the Queen of Almyra herself. Malota. _Claude's mother? _

"Though it is astounding that one can be in as much agony as you and make hardly a sound." She said. Her expression was guarded and carried a tone fully removed from any sort of empathy she had shown with her son hours earlier.

_But, wasn't I screaming my head off? She didn't hear? _Her gaze flicked to Adira. _I was, being healed, and then… _Her brows creased. _How long was I out before the Queen was called?_

Byleth watched as she came to kneel beside her. "I sensed there was something unusual about you the moment you stepped into my tent. Now I suppose I know why."

As Byleth continued to struggle and sit up, much slower this time, a few strands of her hair fell into view. A fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through her at the colors she saw. The divine Sothis green she'd thought lost, and the darker blue she'd had before. _Both_ were perfectly blended together in a sort of gradient through the length of each hair. Her eyes went wide.

"You carry an unspeakable darkness within you, do not hide it from me." The Queen said then, her voice notably tight and low. Just as Byleth managed to pull herself upright to reply, the cold steel of her own knife was pressed against her throat. Malota loomed over her. "How ever you have bewitched my son, I demand truth from you now. Who do you serve?"

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Her brows furrowed_. Should I fight and run? Is she somehow with Midian? This…none of this makes sense! I don't-_

"I don't understand." She wanted to cringe at how weak and strained her own voice sounded. Like stones ground against each other in her throat.

A thick pause followed. The Queen turned and shared a look with Adira. The woman waved a hand until her fingertips shimmered white. More silence until Adira mirrored the expression of her step mother. "She is…telling the truth. She does not know." Both women stared back at her.

Byleth felt the knife lessen in pressure against her skin. No sting, no blood drawn. She took that as a good sign. "I'm here for my friend. If you're asking for loyalties, they're to him." She managed to narrow her eyes. "No one else."

They continued like that for another second or two before the blade was lowered and tossed aside altogether. The Queen heaved a sigh. "Then this is much more complicated than I'd hoped."

Byleth felt strength find its way back to her joints as a new fire burned in her belly. Exhaustion be damned, she had no patience left. "Explain, please."

The Queen shook her head. "No. You will first tell me who's power you've chosen to embody. Then we will see how much that earns you."

Byleth growled under her breath. She wanted to push back. To dig her heels in like an angry bull and enforce her own wishes, but the seasoned fighter within her brought reason back to the surface. _It's just a test of trust. One that affects Claude too. I have to go along with this. We still need these people. _Had all this been why she and Claude were placed in separate parts of the camp to begin with? To interrogate her? It certainly looked that way.

So, she grit her teeth on good faith, and told them exactly who she was and why she was there. She spoke of her ties to Sothis, of her injury that seemed to have cursed her, and finally of Midian himself. Her destined death sentence. By the time she'd finished, Byleth was shaking. She'd been looking down at her open palms the entire time. Though when she dared to raise her eyes to her listeners, Malota's expression had softened. Her eyes drifted away under her gaze.

"So. You are a Chosen."

Byleth quirked a brow. "Chosen?"

"Someone with enough power to choose their fate." Adira said. She'd been quiet through the last several minutes of the conversation, but became much more interested after Byleth had mentioned her bond with Sothis.

The fire churned hotter in her gut at the word 'choose'. She sat up straighter as that fire passed her lips. "Did you listen at all? The supposed all-knowing goddess of creation herself told me to _die_. That is the only way anyone I care for survives!" Her hands curled into fists. Their smiling faces flashed through her mind. Her chest ached, and that inner fire dimmed some. "What kind of choice is that?"

She heard Malota clear her throat. "What Adira means, is that you have been touched by both holy entities of this world. Their power coexists within you." The ends of her hair were lifted and put in front of her face. Byleth looked up again.

Malota offered her a sad little smile. "Like any living thing, holy ones have their own intentions when they decide to share their power. But if or how you use it, is still your choice. You are not a pawn. You are an _ally_."

Byleth just stared. Who exactly was this woman to be able to say such things? Hadn't she just held a knife to her throat?

She sighed. "In answer to your question, I repeat my answer. I'm with Claude. Whatever power I have goes toward our shared goal. No matter what that may cost me."

Malota actually chuckled at that, her eyes clouded with some kind of deep knowing that Byleth hadn't the mind to understand. "I see that now." She leaned back and took on a more thoughtful expression. "My son is unaware of this information with the gods, yes?"

"...yes."

Malota nodded in understanding. "Then unaware he should remain."

Both Adira and Byleth herself perked up at such a statement. Naturally for entirely different reasons.

"But, your highness-?"

"Why?"

Malota studied them both before she focused on Byleth as she answered. "He cares for you, girl. Deeply." Her words hung there for a moment before she went on. "If he knew your role in eradicating this evil we face, he would become distracted and conflicted. For an Almyran leader, that would be a death sentence."

Adira growled under her breath. "As is _lying_ to him! Secrets make disunity among us and put everyone at risk!"

"That's…my confliction." Byleth voiced. "I've never kept important things from him like this before. Our trust is founded on that fact." Her hands bunched together in her lap. "It could ruin everything."

Malota sighed. "I will leave the choice up to you then." Then she stood and gestured for Adira to do so as well. "After everything we've discussed tonight, you have earned a measure of my trust."

She bent down, picked up Byleth's knife from the floor and handed it back to her. Who took it with slow, burdened movements.

As she released her grasp, Malota gave an almost uncharacteristic smile. "For now, we still have the celebratory feast to prepare. I do hope you'll both pull yourselves together and attend."

She left before either Byleth or Adira could protest. She swore she heard the queen laughing to herself down the way.

_That women…I think I see where Claude gets it from. That ability to say everything and nothing at all, and make it a gift._

"That name you call him," Byleth startled from her thoughts, having forgotten Adira was still stood there. "Claude. That is the name he has chosen?"

Byleth furrowed her brows, a horrible sort of dread creeping into her voice. "What are you talking about?"

Adira turned. Her face contorted with a hollow sort of amusement. Satisfaction even. At seeing Byleth's stricken face she actually laughed. "Claude is the name of the Queen's great grandfather. The man you have come here with, we call Khalid."


End file.
